


Grounded

by appleapple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Cleaning, Crack, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Jean and Eren shenanigans, Levi is tired of babysitting, M/M, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:17:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleapple/pseuds/appleapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Eren goes on a drunken Titan rampage and gets grounded for a year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They were in Mitras for the year waiting for a new crop of recruits to train up before venturing out again into Maria. They had retaken Shinganshina, but the victory had been costly, and without any pressing reason to risk more lives Erwin had decided to keep them stationed in the Capital until the Corp was back up to fighting strength.

Their victory had been an amazing boost to morale, and military enlistment was higher than it had been in decades. It made you proud to wear the uniform. When you walked out in the town people admired you, asked if you had been there.

It also made it a lot easier to pick up women.

Jean and Connie had spent the previous night flirting with a couple of girls. The girls had been unimpressed until Jean had invited them back to the palace, and then they had agreed to come along the next night. Squad Levi had a suite of rooms near enough that Historia could drop in when she needed some normalcy, but couldn’t get away to the farm.

To Jean's chagrin, when they arrived they had their boyfriends in tow. 

Mikasa and Sasha were furious with them for inviting strange girls back, so they viewed the boyfriends as a well-deserved punishment and made an extra effort to be nice. It turned out the boys were apprentices in the city, but they were eager to join the military and they had plenty of questions.

Also they had brought beer, which slightly reconciled Jean to their existence. He could even flirt a little with their girlfriends while they were distracted by tales of Mikasa’s fighting prowess, so that was all right too.

As the night wore on it was shaping up to be a pretty decent party, with one terrible exception.

Thursday nights were usually reserved for cleaning the place--Levi had long ago discontinued the palace maids’ service, saying their work wasn’t up to his standards. Jean thought that was horseshit and he just liked torturing them, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The Captain was away with Erwin at the moment, leaving them free to enjoy themselves. The problem, as usual, was Eren.

He was running around the common room dusting and sweeping furiously, seething at the condensation rings everyone was leaving on the furniture. He had the stupid handkerchief tied around his mouth like his beloved _Captain Levi_ always did, and not for the first time Jean thought he looked like a deranged bandit, brandishing a broom instead of a pistol.

“You could at least try not to leave ash everywhere!” Eren said, incensed, as Jean flicked a cigar. Levi had once crushingly told him that smoking cigars was an affectation (as if he could talk! With that stupid cravat!), and forbade it indoors. For that reason Jean did it as often as possible when Levi left for a few days.

“Ugh,” Jean said.

“Who is that creepy guy?” one of the girls whispered. Someone had knocked a drink over, and Eren was frantically trying to mop it up before it could stain the couch cushions. 

“Is he your servant? He’s very strange.”

Jean just shook his head. If he tried to explain, no, this was Eren Jaeger, the famous Titan shifter they’d assume he was lying and get annoyed with him. It had happened before.

Eren was irritating everyone tonight; even Mikasa told him to give it a rest, that Levi wouldn’t be back for a few days and they could all clean up together tomorrow.

“That’s what you all always say,” he said, glaring at them from behind his handkerchief. “But you never do it!”

“Mikasa,” Jean told her in what he imagined was a suave and indulgent tone, “let him be; you know he’s obsessed.”

Eren gave him the finger, and made one of the boys move so he could sweep under the chair he was sitting in.

Eren was the only one who wasn’t drinking. Jean supposed he wouldn’t until the place was cleaned to his satisfaction. Not that there would be anything left for him by then, Jean thought smugly, and that was no less than the spoiled little prick deserved.

“What,” a voice said, cutting through all the noise and laughter as sharp as a blade, “are you doing?”

“Captain!” Eren said in delight, pulling down the handkerchief and beaming at Levi, and really Jean could have murdered him. “Daddy’s home,” he said under his breath to the others, and there were a few hastily stifled giggles. But he knew he was going to pay for that later; Levi had excellent hearing, and he had glanced over in Jean’s direction. 

Yep. He was definitely fucked.

Their guests all suddenly remembered they had things to do, and peeled out; Eren they might not have known on sight but everybody knew who Captain Levi was. 

Eren had come over to stand near Levi, leaning on his stupid broom-- _(fucking brown-nosing little weasel,_ Jean thought disgustedly)--and Levi reached up to tug on a strand of his hair.

“My obedient child,” Levi said, half-mocking and half-affectionate, and Eren gave him a dopey grin.

Sickening. You couldn’t even use it against him; Eren had decided sometime back that there was no point in denying his crush on the Captain, so if anybody tried to tease him about it he just went in the opposite direction, fluttering his eyelashes and agreeing in a high falsetto: ohhhh, yes, wasn’t the Captain wonderful? So brave! So agile! So fascinating! His compliments got more and more outrageous, and whatever audience was nearby found this funnier and funnier until (if you were Jean) you wished you had never said anything. 

He had also gotten wickedly good at impersonations. Once in a while it got him in trouble, but that hadn’t happened in ages. The officers tolerated it--even found him amusing. Even Levi. Jean had caught him crack a sly smile once upon overhearing Eren mimicking an imagined conversation between himself and Hanji.

Levi turned his attention outward to the others. “The rest of you clean this shit up,” he said. “Eren, get changed, you come with me. Also, you’re all grounded this weekend.”

“But, sir--” Connie protested, “this weekend? The tournament--”

“Unh? You should have thought of that before. If you want to have a party, you ask if you can have a party. You don’t bring strangers back here without vetting them first.” His voice had gotten low and dangerous towards the end, and everyone looked away, ashamed. 

Eren reappeared changed into a clean uniform and the two of them left. When they had gone the rest of them looked around uneasily. The place was a disaster, though not as bad as it would have been if Eren hadn’t been cleaning up after them all night, Armin helpfully pointed out.

“Shut up, Armin,” Jean said.

“You shut up, Jean,” Sasha snapped at him. “This was your stupid idea.”

Jean sighed, and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows; Connie went and got the mop and a bucket of water, and Armin and the girls began to move the furniture out of the way.

“Mikasa--” he tried to say. She’d been looking forward to the tournament for weeks.

“Shut it,” she said, glowering.

Was that the start of it? Jean seethed to himself as he mopped the floor, vowing revenge. He was tired of Eren being the golden child; he was going to figure something out. Something to balance the scales a little.

When Eren and Levi came back a few hours later Jean was the only one still at it. The girls and Armin had gone to bed eventually, pointing out that Jean and Connie had been responsible for most of the damage. And since Connie had passed out drunk on the balcony some time ago, that left Jean to finish everything. 

He was scrubbing out all the cups and plates in the sink and scowling. Levi disappeared into his bedroom, and Eren came over to dry for Jean without being asked, a dreamy smile on his face.

Jean glared at him, but didn’t say anything at first. Finally he asked with grudging curiosity, “Where’d he take you?”

“Hanji and some of the other officers play cards on Thursdays.”

Jean stared at him, forgetting the dish he was holding. “He took you to play cards with the senior officers!”

“Yeah.”

“What were you, his date?”

Eren looked at him, bemused. “Why, are you jealous?” he shot back. He flicked the soapy end of the dishtowel in Jean’s face and walked off, as Jean spluttered behind him. “Don’t miss any spots, Jean, you know the Captain hates that,” he advised as he left.

Yeah. He was definitely going to make that little bastard pay.

 

 

 

 

Eren’s seventeenth birthday was a few weeks later. Permission was dutifully sought and received for Levi’s Squad to take him out, and they wound up at one of the city’s rowdier pubs. 

Jean was prepared. Eren didn’t drink much normally (probably because neither did the Captain, he thought meanly) and although it wasn’t a very sophisticated plan he was pleased with what he’d come up with.

He’d filled a flask with grain alcohol, the strongest proof he could find, and throughout the evening he’d surreptitiously poured a little into Eren’s beers. Everybody wanted to buy Eren a beer since it was his birthday, and Jean thought there was an excellent chance that Eren would be stinking drunk by the end of the night, hopefully pissing himself and doing something stupid and memorable.

But to Jean’s annoyance Eren wasn’t getting drunk as fast as he’d expected. Titan metabolism? Whatever, it was annoying. Everyone else was having a good time, but Jean was holding back a little to extract the maximum enjoyment from his revenge. He wanted to be able to remember all the details later. Eren staying mostly sober made his sacrifice pointless.

When the girls got up to use the washroom he leaned over to the others.

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” he said brightly. “There’s a gentleman’s club a block over.”

Armin frowned, but Connie was enthusiastic about the idea, and somehow they were going; everyone was drunk enough at this point that it didn’t take too much persuading. 

“Finish your beer, Eren,” Jean said sweetly; he’d emptied his flask into it when no one had been looking.

Eren brought the bottle up to his mouth, wincing a little at the taste, but he didn’t say anything.

They staggered out together, talking and laughing. Eren was definitely wasted at this point, Jean thought in satisfaction. He could barely stand, and after a few paces he was leaning on Armin just to walk, the two of them giggling hysterically about something.

Jean walked just behind them, smiling to himself. He didn’t even think he’d need to interfere anymore; probably Eren would just do something stupid all on his own at this point.

When they were crossing the street Eren tripped over the curb. Armin reached out a hand to steady him, too late, grabbing at empty air. 

Eren fell forward, and he bounced on the curb before rolling off, landing on his back in the middle of the street. Jean saw blood on his face for an instant before there was a loud explosion, and a gush of hot displaced air pushed him back. 

Eren’s Titan was staggering to its feet in the middle of the street.

“Oh, _shit,”_ Jean said.

 

 

 

 

Levi wasn't big on parties, but he had nothing against birthdays. In his view anyone--but particularly one of his soldiers--surviving for another year was an event worthy of celebration.

He'd politely wished Eren a happy birthday at breakfast that morning and granted them a late curfew. As far as he was concerned he'd fulfilled his obligation to them, and he was looking forward to spending a quiet evening alone for once. 

Erwin had sold them on this sojourn in Mitras by promising a ‘rest’ before they dealt with the problem of the Titans between Maria and Rose. Levi was beginning to think he’d prefer the Titans.

His Squad was the youngest in the Corp, and it showed. They were all getting into that age he had always found to be the most troublesome. No longer the innocent trainees they’d been when they’d first enlisted, they were old enough now to do real damage but not old enough to know better.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to pay off gambling debts and angry whoremasters at this point. He’d thought he’d been clever by pre-emptively going around and having them all banned from the casinos and brothels, but that had backfired by driving them into seedier establishments.

The upside was that at _those_ places he could go in and break a few legs to sort things out. Only then the local gangsters had banded together as ‘concerned businessmen’ and complained to the government...Which meant that Levi had had to endure a lecture from Erwin about ‘keeping his people in line,’ that Erwin had taken _far_ too much pleasure in delivering.

He’d made them all clean the palace, from the attics to the stables, every weekend for a month after that. But beyond keeping them out of trouble for the duration it hadn’t done much good.

With the exception of Eren they’d all been good at making his life difficult. One night Jean and Connie had taken Armin along to a casino, with disastrous results. After a run of ‘beginner’s luck’ (that anyone could be ignorant of this most basic gambling hall scam was something Levi still found difficult to believe) Armin had found himself losing larger and larger amounts of money, but he’d had the clever man’s conceit that _he_ could beat the odds.

Connie had fled back to the palace, waking Levi up in the middle of the night after Armin had lost an amount of money roughly equal to six months of their operating expenses. He’d had to turn up with Erwin and half a dozen of the palace guards, kicking over tables and threatening to shut them down for dozens of real and imaginary violations before they’d grudgingly let Armin go. Armin had sworn never to go in a place like that ever again, but he’d been back at it two weeks later--the bug had bitten him.

Jean and Connie had both run afoul of pimps. It had started innocently enough--buying girls drinks in taverns, getting to know them better, spending the night with them--and then being hit with heavy bills they’d been unable to pay.

“You didn’t know they were prostitutes,” Levi had repeated incredulously, arms crossed over his chest.

“They seemed like nice girls! We just thought they liked us!”

“When a pretty girl in a tavern offers to sleep with you, it’s not because she likes you.”

Once Mikasa had found out about their run-in she’d started her own private campaign to free the city’s prostitutes from sexual slavery.

“I can’t imagine a fate crueler than being forced to sleep with you two,” she’d told them coldly, and had refused to speak to them for a week.

And Levi found her feelings fine and admirable in theory, but in practice she was simply going around beating up pimps and causing large scale property damage. Levi had had to sit her down and explain that as distasteful as she might find it, some of those women _wanted_ to do that work, and others would be out on the street to starve if she took away their livelihood. He’d told her to talk to Historia about setting up some kind of factory or workshop--offering the women who wanted it alternate employment--and he’d wrung a reluctant promise from her to give up her vigilantism.

With Sasha it had been loan sharks. She’d started borrowing money in between paychecks to buy herself extra food. With no understanding of compound interest she had quickly borrowed more than she was able to repay.

Levi wasn’t used to having to do so much hand-holding. Usually the Survey Corp was stationed at out-of-the-way locations where there wasn’t any trouble worth getting into. The most that typically happened was Scouts messing with each other--you got some dramatic love triangles when they were left at loose ends for too long, but that was all.

Levi's Squad in particular should have been obedient, and to a point they were. They were always on time for meals and training, always dressed in clean pressed uniforms and shining boots. But they were also teenagers who had just survived a harrowing year. Knowing how short their lives might be, he didn’t have the heart to confine them to the palace permanently (though each time one of them did something outrageous he found himself regretting that decision). And he couldn’t fairly punish all of them for something only one of them had done. No, they each had to take a turn engaging in some piece of extravagant fuckery, learning the hard way that Titans weren’t the only danger in the world.

He had looked askance at Eren after all that, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Eren had remained quiet and biddable. 

Hanji and Erwin and the others sometimes teased him about Eren’s good behavior, chalking it up to his desire to please his commanding officer. Eren made no secret of his admiration for him. The teasing never lasted very long, though. Levi’s policy for dealing with unwanted comments was straightforward and direct.

“If he stays away from whorehouses and casinos I don’t care _who_ he jerks it too,” he said savagely, when someone was stupid enough to make an insinuating comment to him in the middle of a senior staff meeting.

Everyone looked extremely uncomfortable. By silent consensus they agreed to pretend it hadn’t happened, and Erwin cleared his throat and asked if the month’s financial reports were ready. 

It was the more impressive because Eren was the last person he’d expected to learn self-control. Perhaps, like Historia, because the task he’d been given was so enormous he had found the waters of adolescence easier to navigate by comparison. Eren wasn’t the little savage he’d been when Levi had first met him. He’d been tempered, and the anger that had once defined him was something he’d learned to tame.

He was proud of Eren, but at some point he had started to like him too. He wasn’t blindly devoted the way his colleagues sometimes implied. He wasn’t servile or obsequious, which Levi would never have tolerated. What he _could_ do was slyly get in under Levi’s armor, sometimes with Levi not even realizing until much later. Eren could get him to laugh--and laugh at himself.

Eren was also the best at cleaning.

The biggest change had come after Shinganshina. They’d all been so happy to find themselves still alive, but it had manifested itself in different ways. For some of them it was overindulging, even to the point of self-destruction. In Mitras the Survey Corp was getting a reputation for vice as well as bravery.

For others--like Levi and Eren--it was gratitude. He’d been certain that they were going to die at Shinganshina. When they had made it through alive the world had been a different place. A better place because they were still in it. 

Compared to what might have happened he was grateful that he’d survived. He was grateful that Eren had survived long enough to have his harmless little crush. It didn’t bother him--it was even a little sweet, though that wasn’t something he’d ever admit. Like some wild feral dog deciding to make _you_ its master, romping around at your feet.

Levi sat on the balcony, enjoying the rare quiet. As long as the brats were together there wasn’t too much trouble they could get into. Fortunately, their vices seemed to cancel each other out. Things had even been relatively calm for a few weeks; possibly they had gotten the worst of it out of their systems, though he wasn’t holding his breath. He had no plans to turn in himself until he saw them all safely tucked up in bed for the night.

When the sun went down he brought a lantern out so he could keep reading, and as it got later he stood up and stretched, padding in again to make himself tea. He kept the cup by his elbow, in easy reach, and turned his attention back to his book.

There was a sound that he hadn’t heard in months then, like an explosion, and he leaped up. The teacup fell to the ground, shattering everywhere.

He hadn’t changed out of his uniform yet, and back inside he dragged on his gear. 

“Hanji!” he roared. He heard a faint reply; Hanji and her squad’s apartments were adjacent to their own.

Hanji burst in, still hauling her own harness on over her pajamas. 

“I heard it,” she said, grimly. “You think it’s Eren, or Annie, or--?”

“It doesn’t matter, we’ve got to go.”

“Follow us!” Hanji called back to someone through the open door, “tell the Commander what’s happening!”

They ran out onto the balcony, launching themselves into the cool night air.

 

 

 

 

Jean had taken charge of Connie and Armin, dragging them back into a shadowed doorway as Eren’s Titan roared and bellowed, staggering around the street.

“This is bad,” Armin said sombrely as Eren kicked in the side of a building.

“We need to get somewhere safe,” Jean said.

“But we can’t just leave Eren like this,” Connie protested.

“We don’t have any gear or anything!” Jean said. 

“Maybe we can get his attention,” Connie said. “Hey, Eren!”

Jean grabbed him and threw him back against the wall. “Shut up! Idiot! He doesn’t know what the fuck’s going on, it’s like that time when he attacked Mikasa…” Jean looked back nervously at Eren’s Titan--it was staggering one street over now, grabbing at buildings for support as it moved.

“He’s going to kill somebody,” Armin said, suddenly sounding sober and terrified.

“Fuck,” Jean said succinctly. “Fuck. Okay. Okay. You guys stay here, okay? I’m gonna--”

“What?”

“Distract him, okay! I’m sure someone at HQ will have heard him transform and they’ll be along any minute, I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t hurt anybody. You two assholes stay here, you’re way drunker than me and you’ll just get squished, I’ll be _fine!”_ Jean took off running before they could stop him, praying they wouldn’t follow.

Fuck, fuck, _this was all his fault!_ If someone died tonight it wouldn’t be Eren’s fault, it would be _his!_

He sprinted after Eren’s Titan, following its heavy steps as it rampaged and roared down the street. _Maybe he’ll recognize me,_ Jean thought hopefully. _Maybe seeing me will wake him up._

Eren could move faster than he could, but he was clearly still feeling the effects of the liquor he’d consumed. He was moving slowly and at random, crashing into buildings and roaring in frustration.

Jean had gotten out in front of him. 

_Well, here goes nothing,_ he thought. “Eren!” he yelled up at the Titan. “Hey Eren, over here!”

Eren saw him, and for a moment Jean thought things were going to be okay. Then Eren lunged for him, and he screamed, running for his life.

 

 

 

 

As soon as they were at the roofline they saw him, towering over the buildings. Levi darted off ahead of her, and Hanji--no slouch herself--had to struggle to keep up. Even so, Levi reached Eren a full five seconds before she did. She had never seen him move faster.

It had taken them only a few minutes to gear up and cross the city, but during that time Eren had been able to do considerable damage. They passed two nearly-demolished buildings and quite a few more that would need repairs. Hanji didn’t have much time to examine her surroundings and it was dark, but she hadn’t seen any people. She hoped he hadn’t hurt anyone.

She landed on the roof next to Levi.

“Is that--” she said, as Eren lunged forward. Jean was on the ground, trying to dart out of Eren’s grasp. 

Levi didn’t answer as he leaped back into the air. He flung himself forward, spinning so quickly he was nearly invisible as he crossed Eren’s neck with his blades, making the Titan stagger forward. He was moving so fast he hadn’t been able to make the cuts and pull Eren out at the same time, the way he usually did. He had to make a second pass to drag him out. Hanji saw him brace himself, with his arms around Eren’s unconscious body as they rode the Titan down to the ground, and she felt the building she was standing on shudder with the violence of the crash.

Eren’s Titan began to steam and evaporate immediately. Levi let Eren go, allowing him to drop ungently to the cobbled road; he was still unconscious. Hanji peered down at them. 

“Take him back, Hanji!” Levi yelled up to her, and she nodded acknowledgment as she flew down. She saw the rest of Levi’s Squad had turned up--Jean was jogging back in their direction, and the others had turned the corner onto the street and were hurrying over.

Other Survey Corp members had begun to arrive, and the rooftops around them were filling up with green. 

Hanji grabbed Eren’s limp body, hefting him easily over her shoulder, and then she shot back up into the air. 

The last thing she heard as she made her way back to the palace was Levi addressing his Squad, now assembled in front of him, in a tone she had never heard before.

_”What the fuck were you thinking?”_


	2. Chapter 2

“I just don't understand it,” Erwin said. “You managed a criminal gang in the Underground. You've never had problems with discipline before. Why can't you handle a few teenagers?”

“If you want the job, believe me, it's all yours,” Levi said. He was sitting against the wall in Erwin’s office, his head resting in his hands. 

Erwin winced. “I’m sure you’re doing your best,” he said hurriedly. “I think we can agree it’s been a difficult challenge.”

There was a quick rap at the door, and then Hanji came in without waiting for a response. “The reports are all in,” she said brusquely. “No one was hurt. There are going to be quite a few property claims, but we should be able to manage.”

“Can we plausibly say it was a training exercise?” Erwin wondered aloud.

“There weren’t many civilians around to witness it,” Hanji said.

“But the other military leaders aren’t going to believe that,” Levi gritted out. 

“That’s true,” Erwin said. “We’ll have to punish all of them to show that we’re serious, but we’ve built up enough goodwill that we should be able to weather this. Your Squad can be confined to the palace for the next three months. Eren, I think, will have to be restricted for the next year. Levi?”

“If you didn’t do it, I would,” Levi replied tiredly.

“You’ll be responsible for their behavior?”

“Of course.”

“Very well,” Erwin nodded. “Let’s go tell them.”

 

 

 

A half dozen sorry-looking hungover teenagers were gathered together in the palace dungeon, all in varying states of disorder. Eren was chained up to the flat wooden bed, still unconscious. They faced the senior officers, looking ill and nervous. Hanji and Erwin stared back at them, stern and disappointed. 

It was Levi they were most afraid of, but he hadn’t turned up yet, and this made it all the worse.

The thought had occurred to all of them--independently--that he might be blamed for what had happened.

Then they heard him coming down the steps, and they turned, drawing themselves up straight and erect. 

Levi walked in carrying a bucket, which they eyed nervously. It was filled with cold water, and they watched in silence as he poured the entire thing onto Eren’s head.

Eren spluttered awake, jerking against the chains. He looked at them all, sopping wet and bewildered.

Levi went to stand on Erwin’s other side.

Very slowly Erwin began to speak. He talked to them about duty, about their responsibility to the Corp, to their commanding officers but to Levi in particular, to each other. By the end of it Sasha was quietly sobbing, and Jean and Connie both were looking green. Mikasa was cold and stony-faced, Armin nervous. Eren was just pathetically, damply baffled.

When he had finished this speech Erwin went on to lay out the details of their punishment, which were extensive. By the end of it they were all looking significantly less ashamed, and significantly more sorry for themselves.

When he had finished, Erwin looked to his right. “Levi?” he asked.

Levi stirred. “Since you’ve kept us up all night,” he said, “cleaning up after your mess, we’ve decided you can spend the rest of the day cleaning up the castle.”

They looked back at him, hungover, exhausted, and disheveled, but unsurprised.

“I don’t know if you all realize this,” Levi said, “but you almost got Eren killed last night.” He paused, to let that sink in for a moment. “Eren,” he said. “Did you forget what Hanji told you about your consumption?”

“No!” Eren said, desperately, looking up at him. “I swear, Captain--”

Levi ignored this and turned back to the others. “What about the rest of you?” he asked. “You were all briefed on that too.”

Jean shuffled his feet awkwardly with the others, suddenly remembering a long-ago lecture Hanji had given them that he hadn’t paid much attention to.

“I’m not blaming any one of you. I think you all bear the responsibility for this. But I don’t think you’ve considered the severity of your actions. Since we took back Shinganshina, you’ve all been behaving as if you have some special entitlement to act like selfish idiots. You haven’t cared who you endangered or inconvenienced in the pursuit of your own pleasure.

“But last night, you could have gotten one of your comrades killed with your carelessness. If Eren had hurt or killed someone, what do you think would have happened? How much trust do you think the people actually have in us right now?

“This is the last thing I will tolerate, from any of you. Now get out.”

They trooped up the stairs, and when they reached the top Mikasa turned.

“You’re--you’re not going to leave him down there!” she protested, when she saw the adults coming up alone behind them.

Levi waved a hand to Hanji and Erwin, and they frowned at his squad before walking off. When he was alone with them he gave her a hard look.

“Yes,” he said, “I am.”

“You can’t--”

“Mikasa, I’m perfectly willing to lock you up too,” he told her. “Now shut up, and think for a minute. All of you. Do you realize the other military commanders know what happened by now?

“Do you realize they’re already on their way here? Do you think they trust Eren? Do you think they’ll trust _us_ if they see we’re just letting him run around free after what happened last night?

“He’s staying down there until Erwin gets a handle on things. And all of you are going to stay the fuck away from him. If you care about whether your friend _lives or dies_ then you are all going to leave him the fuck alone until I say so. Understand that?”

They all nodded, even Mikasa, and he snapped, “I said, do you understand!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” they chorused, arms snapping into an automatic salute. 

He stalked away from them, then turned back.

“The rest of you fuck up all the time and it's not the end of the world. He fucks up and he could take out half the city. Do you get that?”

“Yes, sir,” they repeated.

“You’re supposed to look out for each other,” he said. “That’s what it means to be soldiers, do you understand _that?”_

They were tearful now, or stoic depending on their dispositions. All still holding the salute, all still chorusing agreement. He glared at them for a long moment and then left.

 

 

 

That afternoon the other commanders wanted to see Eren for themselves, and so Erwin had to bring them down to the dungeon and parade them through as though Eren were an animal at the zoo. Levi had to be there, but he hung back, leaning against the wall and arms folded over his chest as though he couldn’t be bothered by any of it.

“Aren’t _you_ the one who’s supposed to be responsible for him?” someone said.

Levi unfolded himself and stepped forward, and the man unconsciously took a half step back.

“Yes,” he said. He had glanced only once at Eren when they’d first come in, and that one look had been enough to keep him quiet until now, though Levi could see him clenching his fists at the man’s insinuation.

“The fact that no one was hurt last night, I think we can credit to Levi’s quick action,” Erwin said smoothly, after a short pause. “It was an unfortunate accident, but we have the situation under control.”

“Now that we’ve retaken Shinganshina,” someone else said, “what purpose does he serve? It’s too dangerous to leave him alive.”

Erwin began to talk then, about Eren’s strategic importance to the military, the value of having a Titan shifter on their side, the knowledge that they could still gain from his abilities. He was slowly steering everyone back upstairs, and they followed as he continued talking. Levi was the last one to go up.

“Captain,” Eren said, low and urgent.

“Not now,” Levi said, not looking at him.

 

 

 

When the meeting was over he went up to his room. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, although he’d been awake for the better part of two days at this point. Sleep never came easily to him, even at the best of times, and now when he was still feeling so keyed up it would be impossible.

He sat on his bed and crossed his legs, breathing deeply, settling his body and his mind. He was about to call out for Eren, to ask him to make tea when he remembered.

“Damn it,” he cursed, clenching a hand in his lap.

 

 

 

When the rest of the squad arrived back a few hours later they knew Levi was there; they could feel his presence although he was shut up in his room. They crept around, exhausted but pulling together enough to prepare the evening meal and set the table. 

They made Armin go and tell the Captain when it was ready, ignoring his protests.

Armin gulped, and tapped lightly on Levi’s door.

“Yes.”

“Captain, dinner’s ready,” Armin told him.

The door opened a moment later. “Thank you, Armin,” he said, even more woodenly than usual, and followed him into the common room.

They ate dinner in near silence.

“Sir,” Jean said, eventually. “Is...is everything going to be okay, with Eren?”

“The other commanders were here, earlier. If no one raises any protest he can come out of the dungeon at the end of the week. No thanks to any of you, he’ll stay alive, probably, and stay in the care of the Survey Corp, probably. You can give your gratitude to Erwin.”

No one had the courage to say anything else after this rather dampening speech, and it remained the quietest meal they’d ever eaten. When he had finished eating Levi stood up and said, “Good night.”

They murmured good night in return, and Levi disappeared back into his room. When he had gone they got up to clear the table and wash the dishes. Mikasa sat where she was, looking angry.

“It isn’t right that he should be down there all alone,” she said finally. “Even if it is his fault for being stupid enough to get that drunk.”

“Mikasa, you can’t do anything!” Jean hissed at her, looking anxiously in the direction of Levi’s room. “I think he might actually kill us if we do anything right now.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Mikasa said dangerously.

“Oh my god,” Jean said, grabbing his hair in frustration.

“Mikasa,” Armin said, “Erwin’s afraid the other commanders will be checking up on us during the week. They might even have spies, among the palace servants. That’s why we can’t see him. If it looks like Erwin is being soft on Eren after what happened, they’ll use it as leverage to remove him from the Survey Corp.”

Mikasa looked mutinous, but finally she said, “Fine. I won’t do anything.” Collectively the others sighed in relief.

 

 

 

After what seemed like a very long time Erwin and Hanji had come to see him. He had looked hopefully behind them, but Levi had been nowhere in sight.

Erwin had explained to him, very seriously, the conditions of his continued membership in the Survey Corp.

“I want to be clear that you understand, Eren,” Erwin said. “You’ve done well to stay out of trouble before this, but the stakes are much higher for you than they are for your friends. You can’t afford to make another mistake. _We_ can’t afford for you to make another mistake.”

“I understand, sir,” Eren said in a low voice, forcing himself to look at his Commander. Hanji had a bunch of questions for him then--exactly what he’d drunk, how much, how quickly. She shook her head and tsk-tsk’d, 

“It doesn’t match our previous results, does it? You’ll just have to avoid all alcohol from now on, until we have the chance to experiment again.”

He’d nodded, feeling ill--he had no desire to drink ever again at the moment, anyway--and they’d left him alone. He had enough flex in the chains that he could put his arms around his knees once he’d drawn them up to his chin. Sometime later someone brought him dinner, and a blanket. 

He heard the city clock strike midnight, and then one, and then two. No one’s coming, he told himself. Levi’s not coming. He turned over on his side, tugging the blanket straight and trying unsuccessfully to sleep.

 

 

 

No one came at all that week. Erwin had told him that he’d need to stay in the dungeon for a few days, to ‘prove’ to the other military leaders that he wasn’t dangerous. But he hadn’t expected that no one would visit him. 

He couldn’t remember what had happened. They’d told him he hadn’t hurt anyone, but he would have liked to have asked his friends. He would have liked to have said he was sorry.

He felt as if he was going to spend the rest of his life in that dungeon. Time had never passed more slowly.

At the end of the week, very punctually, he heard the familiar footsteps coming down the stairs and he tensed up. He’d waited for this moment for an eternity, but now that he was here he felt almost nauseous with anxiety.

Levi appeared at last, holding the keys in his hand. Wordlessly he unlocked Eren’s cell, then the chains that bound him. They fell to the ground with a loud rattle, the sound echoing through the empty space.

Levi didn’t speak, just turned and began walking up the stairs.

“Sir!” Eren said, having to hurry after him to keep up.

“What?” Levi replied, not turning or slowing his pace.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Eren blurted out.

“Erwin told you the conditions of your release.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And do you intend to follow them?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Hmm,” Levi said, and Eren still felt sick but he didn’t know what else to say. Somehow he couldn’t broach that silence. Levi was taciturn by nature, but Eren couldn’t remember him ever being this forbidding, even at his worst.

They walked all the way back to their apartments without speaking. Once inside, Eren could hear the others cooking dinner in the kitchen. Levi finally turned to look at him.

“To reiterate,” he said, “You’re confined to the palace for the next year, unless escorted by myself, Hanji, or Erwin. You must let one of us know where you are within the palace at all times. You aren’t even to leave these rooms unless you’ve received permission from me first. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Eren said quietly.

“Hmm,” Levi said again, and walked off. Eren took a deep breath and went to the kitchen.

It was an odd reunion. No one was exactly glad to see him, after all the trouble he’d caused. Even Mikasa seemed angry when she hugged him. They apologized for not visiting him, seeming awkward and embarrassed about that. Armin explained why they hadn’t been allowed to.

“Oh,” Eren said. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I got all of you in trouble too.” It wasn’t exactly the worst situation they’d ever been in, but he’d had the entire week to stew and feel guilty.

“What, uh,” he said, “exactly happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No…”

So then he had to listen to them tell him everything and he got to slink a little lower, especially when Connie slipped up and mentioned their original reason for leaving the bar.

“What!” Mikasa yelled at them. “I can’t believe you! You selfish, disgusting--” she glared at all the boys, and then said, “Whose idea was that?”

“Mine,” Jean muttered, figuring it would come out anyway. And it was better than admitting that he’d been the one that had gotten Eren drunk. He’d felt incredibly guilty about that all week, but he thought that was better than the alternative--confessing the truth would probably end in his murder, at this point.

“Unbelievable!” Mikasa said, and for the rest of the night Sasha was the only one she’d speak to.

When dinner was ready they made Eren go get Levi.

“I don’t think he’ll want to see me…”

“He doesn’t want to see any of us, but it’s your turn,” Connie replied, shoving him out of the kitchen.

Eren went unwillingly, knocking at the Captain’s door. “Captain? Uh, dinner’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Levi said coldly, as if Eren had just offered him a dead rat, and Eren nodded jerkily. 

He let Levi walk ahead of him to the kitchen. Usually he sat at Levi’s side. He was half-hoping one of the others would have taken his place, but he wasn’t so lucky.

They sat down together awkwardly. Things had gotten marginally better over the course of the week, but Eren’s return had booby-trapped the conversation. Mikasa refusing to speak, except for a very tense, “Sasha, please ask for the bread,” that killed whatever levity the others had vainly been trying for.

Levi hadn’t been saying much either. Jean--looking from one grim, stoic face to the other--thought the family resemblance had never been so obvious.

As usual, Levi was the first person to get up and leave. He bid them good night, and when he had gone the tension eased marginally. They were mostly finished eating, and after a moment Sasha rose to begin gathering up the dirty dishes. 

“Sasha--” Eren said, in a strangled voice-- “Just leave it, I’ll take care of it.”

“But--”

“I’ll do all the dishes,” Eren said. “Don’t worry about it. You all have been covering for me, all week, I owe you.”

 

 

 

When Levi got up the next morning (he always rose earlier than everyone else) the first thing he noticed was that the apartment was properly clean. He paused at the doorway to his room, looking over the spotless floor, and shelves, and furniture. Everything smelled--very faintly and not unpleasantly--of soap. 

“Hmph,” he said.

When he got to the kitchen the teapot was full and already waiting for him. It was exactly the right temperature--he tasted it--and had nearly brewed long enough. By the time he had carried it out to the balcony, it would be perfect. 

He stood there for a moment, feeling extremely irritated, and more irritated with himself for not understanding why. 

After half an hour he had finished most of the pot, and he felt a presence lurking behind him.

“Hello, cleaning sprite,” he said under his breath, without turning.

“Captain,” Eren muttered, “I was making breakfast, would you like some?”

“Sure, Eren,” Levi said.

Eren came back a few minutes later, with a fresh pot of tea and a plate of something that was decidedly not porridge.

Levi stared at it. “What is this?” he said. They were wafer thin, browned at the edges, and rolled up like long cigarettes; he could see a dollop of something, probably jam in the middle of each one.

“Pancakes?” Eren said, hopelessly.

Levi craned his head to look inside. “Did you abduct someone from the kitchens?”

“What? Oh, no, I, uh. Made them.”

He hadn’t been aware of any hidden culinary talents in Eren, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“You know how to cook,” he said, as if Eren had just admitted to murdering prostitutes in his free time.

Again, Eren shrugged, looking close to panic. “A couple of things…?” he said, as if he doubted it himself. 

“Fine. Did you make some for yourself?”

“There’s--yeah.”

“Come out and eat with me then. If you like.”

Eren disappeared at once, and came back a moment later with his own plate. He sat on the swing next to Levi, gingerly, as if he expected any wrong move would get him tossed off the balcony.

“I’m surprised you know how to do this,” Levi said, after a while. “These are good.”

“Yes,” Eren said. “I sort of forgot, that I remembered. The first few batches weren’t as nice looking,” he admitted. “I left them for the others. It came back to me, though.” He paused, then said, “My mother always let me cook them. I liked doing it. It was--you had to pay close attention, so that they came out perfect every time, and…” he glanced sideways at Levi, and confessed, “Mikasa couldn’t do it as well as I could.”

Levi smiled faintly in spite of himself. By the time they’d finished eating and Eren had carried the plates back inside the others had started waking up and moving into the kitchen, looking for food.

“Hey Eren,” Jean said, looking up from his plate, “These are good. Make some more.”

“I used up all the batter,” Eren replied, bringing the dishes to the sink. “Have some porridge.” He waited for the inevitable dig, but it didn’t come and he relaxed slightly. Apparently Jean could be reconciled into something approximating civility with food; that was good to know.

 

 

 

For the next few weeks everyone was still tiptoe-ing around Captain Levi. By the end of the month he had thawed out enough towards them that they were back to something close to their usual high spirits at dinner, but things weren’t exactly the same. 

Before, Levi hadn’t been above bantering with them occasionally--Eren was particularly good at getting him to join in the conversation. But now, though he had stopped being outwardly hostile, he was quiet and pre-occupied most of the time. And Eren was too subdued to try to draw him out. 

Eren would do most of the chores now, without being asked, and he had stopped trying to get the rest of them to help. It had been nice for the first few weeks, but eventually they’d all started feeling guilty enough to pitch in. 

Jean was wrestling with his conscience. He _had_ wanted to get back at Eren for being such a smug little prick (and at Levi, too, for encouraging him), but he had never meant for it to get so out of hand. It wasn’t just the big things, like almost destroying the city or potentially killing civilians or getting Eren grounded for an entire year. It was the little things, like the way the Captain was suddenly distant and remote and impossible to talk to, when before he had seemed like he was almost growing fond of them.

And Eren. If there was anything worse than the self-satisfied teacher’s pet routine he’d been pulling before, it was the hopeless lost puppy act. It was so pathetic! The way he went out of his way to do chores and run errands for everyone as some kind of penance for getting them all in trouble, and the way he kept everything so fucking clean without even asking for help anymore, never mind trying to browbeat them into contributing the way he used to.

He wouldn’t even fight back if you tried to start something with him! It was infuriating. In spite of himself, Jean had just started wishing that Eren would act _normal_ again.

Because the worst part was, he had noticed how miserable Eren was. Everyone (except Mikasa, who was still pretty pissed at them) had forgiven Eren for what had happened--they’d all gotten in trouble since they’d been in Mitras, so the grounding hadn’t felt as unjust as it might have. But things between Eren and Levi weren’t the same. On the surface, sure, Levi treated Eren the way he treated the rest of them now. He didn’t act angry with him, or behave any differently than he did toward the everyone else. But there was no hint of the gentle teasing that had gone on before--no sign at all that Levi might feel anything more for Eren than he did for any of his other subordinates.

Jean was heartily sick of the whole thing, and he tried to avoid it. But he couldn’t help noticing things he had no interest in noticing. The way Eren’s cheerful countenance sometimes slipped, and he’d glance over at Levi as if he was close to tears--the way he worked so much harder at everything now, from cleaning to training, in a desperate and pathetically obvious attempt to win the Captain's approval.

Almost every night he stayed up later than everyone else, tidying and scrubbing to irritating levels of perfection. 

One night when Jean was the only one still up and reading in the common room Eren came in. He’d just finished the kitchen, and he began fussing with the other side of the room. There was only so much dusting of already spotless objects Jean could take before he felt like screaming. He put down his book and glared at Eren.

“Will you just give it a rest already,” he snapped in a low voice. “Go to bed, Eren! He doesn’t care. He’s not going to pat you on the head and tell you what a good boy you are for doing this.”

He saw Eren go still. His back was to him, and Jean tensed up, readying for a fight. He’d said far less before to goad Eren into a brawl, and he found himself oddly looking forward to it, whatever the repercussions. Anything to relieve this awful tension.

“I know,” Eren said, quietly. Then he picked up his dustrag and began again, as if nothing had happened.

Jean balled up a fist--oh that was just low! _Motherfucker!_ he thought, and stalked off to his room. It took him hours to fall asleep. He could hear Eren creeping around until past midnight, and he held one of his pillows to his ear, furiously trying to ignore it.


	3. Chapter 3

When their three months were up Squad Levi awoke lighthearted, like the world had been made fresh and new. It was a free day for them (though that term had been effectively meaningless during their captivity). One by one they filtered into the kitchen. Levi was there already, reading a newspaper.

When they were all sitting down he put the paper aside and looked at them.

“If you get into any trouble today,” he said, speaking slowly and taking the time to look at each one of them, “or any other day, they will never find your bodies.” He let that sink in for a moment.

They gulped, and he held up a hand, again staring hard at each of them as he ticked things off on his fingers. “No brothels, no casinos, no loansharks, no beating up pimps, no bars. Is that perfectly clear?”

“What are we supposed to do then?” Connie said, and Jean stomped on his foot. “Ow!”

“Go for a nice walk in the park,” Levi suggested. “Enjoy the sunshine. Contemplate the miracle of your continued existence.”

He picked up his newspaper.

“Uh,” Jean said, after a moment. “Is that all, sir?”

“Do you require more instruction?” Levi asked, flicking down the edge of the paper to peer at them. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir!” they chorused, saluting.

“Then get out.”

“Wh-now?”

“You’ve been cooped up in here for months. _I’m_ sick of looking at you, I can’t imagine you want to spend your first day off in here.”

“Uh...what about curfew?”

“Ten P.M like always. Oh,” he added, “and stay together. No one go off on their own. Especially Armin.”

Armin looked stricken, but they agreed to this, towing him from the room.

“I wasn’t going to--” Armin murmured.

“You’re never going to, you just end up doing it,” Mikasa replied. She glanced back behind her, to where Eren was still sitting at the table, and she hesitated. He saw her looking and he smiled and shook his head. With one reluctant look back she nodded and left with the others.

She knew Eren was sorry for what had happened, but in spite of everything there was a little spark of her that was still angry. She wasn't even sure why. 

She had talked it over with Historia a few times. Lately, cooped up in the palace all the time, she'd found herself identifying with her former squadmate. Historia was used to that kind of confinement now, and she'd been surprisingly sympathetic when they'd all first been grounded.

She'd been very helpful putting into practice the plan that Levi had first suggested, for finding work for the former prostitutes, and after that Mikasa had felt a new warmth for her. It had deepened when Historia had sent along a message asking her to meet for a pre-breakfast sparring session, and that first meeting had turned into a regular habit for them.

They both felt trapped. Being together, being able to discuss things in private without worrying about what everyone else would think--it was a freedom they'd come to cherish.

Mikasa always found it difficult to let her guard down, with everyone apart from Eren and Armin. The friendship with Historia was something new for her. And so for some reason she'd found herself confiding in her one morning, after they'd finished practicing.

Historia heard her out, drinking deeply from a cup of water, then she came and sat on the floor across from her friend.

“Mikasa,” she said. “You need to get laid.”

Mikasa sputtered indignantly.

“And Eren's not going to be the one to do it. He turned me down,” Historia added with a sigh. “Oh, don't get so excited. It was a while ago. But even you must realize the Captain is the only one he gives a shit about.”

Mikasa glared at her, red and flustered. “I do not! And...anyway he's like my brother, I don't…”

Historia snorted. “And you're the most sexually frustrated, sex-obsessed person I know.”

“I am not!”

“You don't talk about anything except prostitutes and pimps, and how mad you are whenever the boys sleep around. You're jealous and you're in denial about it.”

“I am not!”

“You know Rodric?” Historia asked suddenly. “He's an officer in my royal guard.”

“The tall one,” Mikasa said grudgingly.

“With the nice ass,” Historia agreed. “He's very discreet.”

“Historia!”

“Think about it, that's all,” Historia said innocently.

The next time Historia had invited her to spar, Rodric was there. Mikasa had glared at her but hadn’t been able to say anything in front of him. Rodric had been nice though--displaying just the right amount of reverence without crossing the line. When he’d left them politely at the end of their session Historia had hissed at her, _“See?”_

Mikasa glared.

“He’s perfect for you,” Historia told her sweetly, eyes glittering.

“You’re mad,” Mikasa replied.

When Rodric had showed up on subsequent occasions she’d been polite but distant. That might have gone on indefinitely, except that one afternoon when she was eating lunch in the common dining hall (they usually ate breakfast and dinner by themselves, but lunch was almost always in mixed company with all the other soldiers stationed in the palace) he had asked to sit with her. She had agreed, not wanting to be rude, and they had been chatting casually until Jean showed up. He’d barrelled in, blustering and possessive, and without even acknowledging him Mikasa stood up.

“Do you want to go and try that throw again, Rod?” she asked, ignoring Jean completely.

“I’d love to,” he told her, looking just the faintest bit amused. “Good afternoon,” he said politely to Jean as they left.

She hadn’t had sex with him then. That had come later, when her interest in him had surpassed her desire to merely spite Jean.

In spite of Historia’s predictions having a distraction hadn’t totally cooled her anger toward Eren. She was tired of the way he didn’t take care of himself. And he wouldn’t let her take care of him. She could never see either Eren or Armin as nearly-grown men. 

She didn’t have any history with Rodric, and that made it easy to take him as he was. He made her laugh, and he never pushed her or interrogated her, never asked awkward questions or made her uncomfortable. And she hadn’t grown up with him, so she could look at him and just see a man, not a boy she’d known all her life.

“Mikasa,” Sasha murmured as they walked out of the palace gates, “Look.”

Rodric was there, with another young man she vaguely recognized from the palace guard. She stopped and smiled involuntarily.

“Good morning,” he said politely. “Tomas and I were wondering if you’d like to come along with us to the pastry shop in the Heights.” He looked directly at Mikasa, ignoring the boys’ consternation.

“Yes,” Mikasa said instantly. “That sounds lovely.”

“The Captain said to stay together!” Jean protested as the girls left with them, Sasha eagerly interrogating them about the nature and size of this pastry shop.

“He said for no one to go off on their own,” Mikasa replied. “You two can watch Armin.”

“Hey!”

Later, she would feel vaguely guilty for having forgotten Eren so easily, but in that moment--her arm tucked through Rodric’s, Jean still complaining loudly behind them--she felt supremely content.

 

 

 

Eren ate his breakfast in nervous silence while Levi drank his tea. It was the first time he had been alone with Levi in...well, he couldn’t remember the last time. It made him feel awkward and thrilled, his heart beating madly in his chest. But of course Levi didn’t look at him, didn’t even look up again from his newspaper until Eren had nearly finished eating.

“Eren,” Levi said.

“Sir,” Eren practically whispered.

“I’m going out,” Levi said, putting the paper aside. “You can eat dinner with Hanji’s Squad. Don’t leave the palace, and let Erwin know where you are if you leave the apartment.”

“You--won’t be back for dinner,” Eren said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“No. And I doubt the others will, either, so just go next door. I’ll see you later,” he said casually as he left the room.

When Eren heard the outer door click shut he pushed his half-empty bowl of porridge away with a sigh. He’d had some half-formed ideas--fantasies, really--about how today might go, how he might slowly start to win back some of the trust he’d lost, without the others around to distract.

But of course, he thought dully as he carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen, why would Levi want to be cooped up here with _him?_ It was just as he’d said, he was thoroughly sick of all of them after all this time. Even him. Especially him.

He cleaned the dishes and put them away, and looked around hopelessly at the kitchen. It was spotless. Everything was. He could clean anyway, but there’d be no noticeable difference. And anyway, it was like Jean had said to him before--Captain Levi wouldn’t care.

He nudged the thought aside and went back to his room, closing the door behind him. He lay down on his bed, turning his head to the side, unable to think of anything he wanted to do. The hurt was there, but it was just a dull ache. It would fade. He told himself that for a while, trying to believe it, then he got up and put his shoes on and walked next door.

“Er, hello,” he said, when Moblit answered the door. “I was just looking for Squad Leader Hanji.”

“Hanji’s gone out for the day,” Moblit answered. “She won’t be back til late tonight. Did you need something?”

“No--no, that’s all right,” Eren said.

“The Captain said you’re going to join us for dinner. We usually eat at six.”

“I have some work to do,” Eren found himself saying. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just get something by myself later.”

Moblit looked faintly surprised; “Are you sure?” he asked. “You’re very welcome, Eren.”

“Thank you,” Eren said, forcing himself to smile. 

“Well. If you change your mind…”

Eren nodded, and turned and walked the few steps back to their apartment.

It was obvious that Captain Levi had gone off somewhere with Hanji. He hadn’t mentioned it specifically, but there’d been nothing to stop him finding out when he eventually joined up with the rest of Hanji’s Squad. He knew he was overthinking it--that ultimately it didn’t matter that Levi hadn’t cared enough to mention it to him. What Levi did was his business, and he’d made it abundantly clear these last few months that his business had nothing to do with Eren.

And yet. And yet. Somehow it still hurt, to know that Levi had gone off with Hanji, to do _something_. Eren knew, theoretically, that they were friends, but the Captain always seemed to mostly just be tolerating Hanji and her eccentricities. He had seemed to enjoy Eren’s company once. 

He hadn’t stopped hoping that he’d be able to get Levi to forgive him eventually. That things could go back to how they’d been before.

But you needed two people for a rapprochement. He was staring fixedly at nothing in particular, thinking very hard. 

He’d been thinking for months that Levi was still angry with him. But what if he wasn’t? What if he just didn’t care anymore? Eren knew how much the others had been pissing Levi off, even before his disastrous birthday. Maybe he was just sick of all of them, and Eren had been the final straw. 

Eren knew Levi had hand-picked his previous squad--whereas he and his friends had just been thrust upon him. And they’d been nothing but a headache ever since. He was tired of them all, and who could blame him? 

Eren swallowed hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but he felt too close to it now. He had thought that if he just worked hard enough, for long enough, he’d be able to get things back to how they'd been before. He hadn’t thought that he’d blown things forever. But thinking back on everything now, he realized he probably had.

Since that day Levi had first come to get him from the dungeon, he hadn’t shown one ounce of warmth towards him. To any of them, really, but the others didn’t care. After Levi had stopped being obviously angry with them they’d been satisfied. He hadn’t been--he’d been determined to win back Levi’s trust. He’d done everything he could think of to that end, but beyond a distant polite civility Levi hadn’t responded at all. 

And he had heard Levi teasing and joking with Erwin and Hanji, he thought. Even just that week. He teased Hanji and called her names all the time--but that was a kind of affection with him. He hadn’t done that with Eren. Not since before his birthday.

It turned out realizing you’d lost the affection of the person you loved was very different from realizing that you were never going to get it back.

After a while he got up, and went to go look for Erwin.

 

 

 

“Commander?”

Erwin looked up. “Eren,” he said. “Come in. What can I do for you?”

“It’s about the Captain, sir,” Eren muttered, shutting the door behind him and coming to sit a little awkwardly before Erwin. “I--it isn’t fair, that he has to be stuck with us all the time.”

Erwin frowned. “Eren, you know why--”

“I’m not asking for any change for myself,” Eren said quickly. “But the Captain didn’t do anything wrong. What happened was our fault. My fault. But he’s been punished too.”

Erwin looked thoughtful for a moment. “So what are you asking?”

“I know he’s tired of being stuck with us. Can’t you let him have more time off--like today?”

“To tell you the truth, Eren, I have brought it up with him, but he’s insisted that he be the one to stay with you all.”

Eren winced. “I know he feels responsible for us, but what happened wasn’t his fault. And now that the others are off of probation, and it’s just me, I don’t mind--I mean, if you want to lock me in the dungeon again that’s okay--”

“All right, Eren, let’s not get carried away,” Erwin said hurriedly. “I’ll bring it up with him again, we’ll see if we can take turns staying with you, all right?”

“Yes, sir! Thank you.”

After Eren left Erwin smiled to himself, picking his pen back up and returning to his work. Eren’s crush on Levi was still intact, apparently; it would have been amusing to see Levi go wild hearing about Eren’s offer to lock himself back up in the dungeon for him. Not that Erwin would. Beyond their brief personnel meetings no one mentioned Eren to Levi these days, and that included Erwin. 

Levi was harder on his Squad than anyone else, and hardest of all on Eren. It was easy to understand why, but he had changed these past few months. He’d been protective of Eren before, the others too. Erwin knew better than anyone how hard Levi had worked to pull them out of scrape after scrape, as frantic as a mother duck chasing after her wayward ducklings. But this last time had been different. Levi had been even more distant and closed off than usual. 

Erwin supposed it was because of how close he’d been to losing another squad. If Eren had really been out of control that night, with the others all chasing after him, half in the bag and no gear or equipment…

It was easy to see how things could have turned out very differently, if he and Hanji had been later to arrive. 

Levi had lost a lot of people over the years. Erwin didn’t even know about all of them. But to lose another whole squad, only a year after losing the first…

He could understand why Levi had shut down. They all found different ways to deal with their grief. This period in Mitras he had intended to be a time of rest and recovery for the Survey Corp. It hadn’t been for Levi, and he had made it clear to Erwin on many occasions he’d prefer to leave the city for somewhere far away and isolated.

Well, there were many reasons why he couldn’t do that, but he could make sure Levi got more time to himself. Eren was right, and it was his fault for not realizing that sooner.


	4. Chapter 4

Hanji chewed on the edge of her pencil as she examined the form; Levi sat across from her, leaning back with his legs crossed. They were sitting at a window table in the crowded cafe, and for the last half hour he had been casually people watching as she pondered names and numbers.

Suddenly he sat straight up, and she set her papers aside.

“What is it?”

“Those little monsters are out there,” he said, and he stood up, abandoning their table. Hurriedly Hanji pulled her things together and stuffed them into a leather satchel as she followed him out.

She caught up with him as he was crossing the street, jogging to keep up even with her longer stride. 

“What are you--oh,” she said, as Levi slowed down, feigning interest in a store window as he watched them in the distance.

“Stop being so conspicuous,” he said.

“This is kind of mean, don’t you think? Entrapment.”

“It’s not entrapment. They’re supposed to be staying out of trouble anyway.”

Hanji watched them in the distance, but she was too far away to hear what they were saying. Levi began to amble closer, and she tagged along.

They were too busy arguing to notice the officers approaching, and when Levi was practically on top of them he spoke.

“Not going in there, are you?” he asked mildly. They were standing in front of a bar.

Connie shrieked and let go of the package he was holding. Sasha swooped in to rescue it, glaring at him.

“That’s a very valuable cake!” she told him angrily.

“N-no, sir,” Connie said, ignoring her.

“Where’s everyone else?” Levi asked.

They exchanged looks; “Well, um--”

“Don’t tell me--” Levi began dangerously.

“No, no, it’s just--”

“Jean’s watching Armin. They went to the bookstores.”

“And Mikasa?” Levi asked, raising his eyebrows. “She’s alone?”

“No…” Sasha said slowly, exchanging a helpless look with Connie.

Hanji coughed delicately and elbowed Levi; she might have muttered something in his ear. “Oh. All right,” he said, his tone changing. “See you later, then,” he told them. “Stay out of trouble.” They strolled off, and Connie breathed a sigh of relief.

“You think he came looking for us?” he asked her.

Sasha shrugged, scrabbling at the string holding her box together and peering inside. “You better not have broken this.”

“Oh, quit worrying about your stupid cake for a minute!”

“I will not! Tomas bought it for me--”

“You should have stayed with him then!”

“I would have if he hadn’t had to go back to the palace; it would have been more interesting than staying with you!” she snapped back. Tucking the box carefully under her arm, she said, “Come on, they should be done by now. Let’s go find them.”

“What do you think _they_ were doing together?”

She shrugged. “Who knows! They’re friends, aren’t they?”

“But they don’t _hang out,_ do they?” Connie persisted. “You think…”

“What? No way!” Sasha said, though she was obviously intrigued by the possibility. 

Connie nodded to the area around them. “This is where all the fancy restaurants and cafes are,” he said. “Not the usual part of town for soldiers to hang out. So he probably _wasn’t_ looking for us, specifically…”

“Hmm,” Sasha said thoughtfully. “Eren would freak…”

Connie snorted. “I’m not gonna tell him.”

“The Captain and Hanji though? I don’t know, it’s too weird…”

“Well, _they’re_ both weird,” Connie said mischievously. “Who else would want to date them?”

 

 

 

Connie didn’t believe it, but that didn’t stop him from repeating it to the others when they met up later; he figured it was minor payback for the Captain nearly giving him a heart attack on the street. No one with any sense would believe it anyway, but even so the rumor was faithfully repeated back at HQ. Gossip was currency, and when Sasha innocently asked Hanji if she and the Captain had had a nice afternoon together her response gave the rumor frightening credence.

“Oh, yes! Terrific!” Hanji said with real enthusiasm.

“Really? What did you do together?”

“We--oh. We just had coffee! Yes!”

“I thought the Captain didn’t drink coffee,” Sasha said, genuinely perplexed, while nearby a crowd of astounded eavesdroppers stopped what they were doing to listen. 

“Tea, then!” Hanji said, blushing, and she ran off. 

It was more than enough to get the SC rumor mill churning; it didn’t help that when questioned as to what they’d been doing Levi’s response was, “None of your fucking business.”

Eren overheard another squad discussing it in the courtyard the next day. He smiled at the absurdity of it: _Hanji and the Captain!_ and thought it was funny enough that he repeated it later to his teammates.

He was surprised, and a little alarmed, when Connie grimaced and disappeared, and Mikasa looked at him in concern.

“I’m sure it’s just an exaggeration,” Mikasa said soothingly.

“But--it’s just a joke,” Eren said.

“Yes,” Mikasa agreed, too quickly, and Eren stared hard at her.

“Why is it not a joke,” he asked in a flat voice. She sighed, and told him what Connie and Sasha had told her. “I wasn’t there,” she finished. “I’m sure they misunderstood, or--”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbled.

It _was_ a joke. No one who knew them both could believe anything else; so why did he have such an awful pit in his stomach? 

It was Sunday and they had the afternoon free, though they weren’t supposed to stray from the palace grounds. By the time he came back out of his room everyone had disappeared somewhere or other, and the apartment was deserted. Even Levi was nowhere to be seen, and that was unusual.

He could have gone next door, and asked Hanji for permission to leave the apartment. He didn’t. He was lonely, but the gnawing jealousy--the knowledge that Levi _might_ be there with Hanji, even if it was unlikely--was enough to keep him from looking. He wished someone else was around. They were all so sick of being cooped up though--he couldn’t blame them for wanting to spend as little time in their rooms as possible.

Usually by five everyone was back to begin preparing dinner, but at five-thirty Eren pushed the book he hadn’t been reading aside and went to poke through the kitchen. There wasn’t much there, and he was staring irresolute at an exceptionally seedy potato when he heard voices at the outer door. Hopefully--because it might be the others, with supplies to restock the kitchen--he went and stood in the kitchen doorway. 

Levi came in, followed by Erwin--and Eren swallowed hard, because Levi had caught his eye and he looked _pissed._

He gave the tiniest jerk of his head. Eren replied politely to the Commander’s greeting as he followed Levi down the hallway to the bedrooms--to his doom. In front of Eren’s room Levi jerked his head again. Eren opened the door and went in, and Levi followed him, clicking it shut silently behind him.

“What the _fuck,”_ he said almost savagely, “did you say to Erwin?”

“I--what?” Eren said, bewildered. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been that.

Levi glared at him. “I know it was you,” he said, as though Eren had tried to deny it.

“Captain!” Eren said, desperately, “I didn’t say anything, I promise, I just told him it wasn’t fair you had to be stuck with us all the time, when it wasn’t your fault--”

“Who asked you to speak for me?”

“No one! I just--”

“Well, _now,”_ Levi said angrily, “Erwin thinks I need to go and play happy soldiers, so instead of having a quiet evening in to read my damn book I have to go out and watch a bunch of idiots get shitfaced while I am bored out of my fucking mind. So you’d better fucking make yourself disagreeable to Erwin so he doesn’t want to repeat the experience, because _I’m not going to.”_

“But you said you were tired of babysitting,” Eren protested feebly.

“So fucking what? That doesn’t mean I want to go babysit a bunch of drunk adults instead of a bunch of useless teenagers.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Eren said, as if this were a perfectly reasonable question.

“Fuck, I don’t know! Go to the symphony! Be left alone for five damn minutes!”

“Well, then let’s go to the symphony,” Eren said, relieved.

“What?” Levi said, momentarily distracted. _“You_ want to go to the symphony?” He sounded so skeptical that in spite of himself Eren was offended.

“I’m not a savage,” Eren snapped back. “We had a symphony in Shinganshina, you know! My father took me.”

There was a knock at the door. “Levi?” Erwin said, cautiously.

“Go away,” Levi said, his eyes not leaving Eren’s face.

“What the fuck is this about, really?” Levi demanded. He was suddenly dangerously calm. He hadn’t ever been really angry--not by the standards of other people. He hadn’t once raised his voice. But Eren was well-versed in all Levi’s moods.

Eren looked away and swallowed. Belatedly he realized this was the longest conversation he’d had with Levi in months. “I just...didn’t want you to hate me anymore,” he muttered. He didn’t look at Levi, but the sudden silence told him all he needed to know. It unrolled between them, like a blast of cold air. 

“Fine,” Levi said at last, and Eren looked up, green eyes full of surprise. “We’ll go to the damn symphony.”

 

 

 

Erwin had gone back to the sitting area, and he looked up when Levi and Eren reappeared. 

“Levi?” he asked in surprise. They were both dressed in their uniforms. 

“Your services are no longer required,” Levi said drily.

“Uh...what?”

“We’re going to the symphony. I assume Historia’s box is unoccupied.”

“You’re going...to the symphony.”

“Yes,” Levi said, staring him down. “Eren wants to go.”

Erwin looked over at Eren; he seemed--embarrassed? Guilty? Confused?

“All right then,” Erwin said, finally. “Have a nice time.”

When they had gone he shook his head for a moment, bemused, and then he got up and went next door. Hanji’s Squad welcomed him in--they were about to sit down to eat, and the apartment was full of the friendly sounds of clinking glasses and cutlery, and the smell of cooked meat and vegetables.

“A moment, Hanji?” he asked, after greeting them all politely, and they went into her small office.

Very briefly he told her about what had happened; Hanji laughed. 

“Do you know what’s going on?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “Well you know Eren…”

He rolled his eyes and nodded; yes, of course.

“Levi can’t stand martyrs. He probably just figured out that’s what Eren was doing.” Hanji looked very amused.

“What _were_ you two doing yesterday?” Erwin asked, suddenly curious. Like everyone else he’d heard the rumors, and dismissed them.

“Oh! There was a boxing match. We were betting on the winners. Levi didn’t want his squad to know about it--he said since they hadn’t discovered sports betting yet he wanted to keep it that way.”

Erwin smiled and shook his head. “Of course. Did you win anything?”

“Yes, we did quite well, actually,” she said. She made an inquiring look at the door, and he nodded and followed her back out.

“Do you want to join us for dinner, Commander?” she asked.

“Thank you, yes,” he said. Moblit had already laid a place for him, and he took the offered chair with a polite nod.


	5. Chapter 5

When they were outside Eren tilted his head back to breathe in the night air. He had barely left the palace these last few months--only when one of the officers had a reason to take him somewhere. He hadn’t ever asked for the privilege--he hadn’t felt like he’d deserved it, even in the unlikely event that it was granted.

Levi was quiet as they made their way to the Opera House, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Eren was happy just to be outside--and to be with Levi. Whether or not this was a one-off the awful pattern of his days had finally been broken, and he was determined to enjoy it. It had rained recently, and there was a gentle mist rising up from the wet cobblestones. The city was quiet, and until they reached the block the Opera House was on they saw very few people.

The building itself was beautiful--opulent. It glittered in the darkness like some night-blooming flower, and Eren found himself remembering suddenly a long ago night--his parents holding his hands as they walked into Shinganshina’s modest concert hall.

Levi brooded. He hadn’t spoken to Eren on the way over, and as they walked up the steps together he kept quiet, his thoughts tucked in around him like another kind of armor. The Opera House was beautifully decorated--there were glass chandeliers glowing with candles, and soft pastel murals of the Goddesses romping in pastoral scenes. The Royal Box was not as ostentatious as it once had been--Historia had toned it down considerably. But it was still the Royal Box, draped with expensive silk cloth, and with one tall elegant chair sitting high and apart from the others. More than a few people turned to look curiously in their direction as they sat down, and the scrutiny was almost enough to make Levi regret his rash decision to bring them here.

Fortunately it wasn’t long before the performance started, and the lanterns in the vast room were darkened. He hadn’t believed that Eren would sit patiently through the symphony, but almost from the first note he saw Eren was transfixed by the music; obviously someplace far away, deep in his own past perhaps. 

He wished he could lose himself as easily. Normally he liked music.

He had taken Eren’s crush for a joke. It wasn’t funny any longer. 

Eren had been desperate back at the palace. He had known these past few months, of course, that Eren had been trying in his own clumsy way to fix things. But he hadn’t realized--or he’d chosen to ignore--how much remorse had consumed him. He had a sinking feeling that Eren would have done _anything_ to get Levi's forgiveness, and that wasn't right. He wasn't doing his job, he wasn't doing right by Eren if he let him believe that it was okay to give other people that kind of power over you. No matter who they were.

He had to fix this.

A few months ago it would have been much simpler. He prided himself on keeping his inner life tidy and composed; a walled garden. Outside that high wall all might be chaos and ruin, but inside you could never tell. 

Eren was the muddy footprints left on clean cobbles, the weeds poking through the flower beds, the garden gate left open, and all of it noticed too late.

When the performance was over Eren stood up slowly, like a man in a dream, and he followed Levi out of the richly gilded building and into the street. 

“That was wonderful,” he said when they were outside.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

They were silent again. Eren was far away, still, and Levi was disinclined to pursue him. When they crossed a stone bridge Eren blinked in surprise and looked around him.

“Aren’t we going the wrong way?”

“I thought we could take the long way back,” Levi replied. He stopped to lean forward, looking down at the water below. They were alone at this late hour, and they’d encountered few people after leaving the busy streets surrounding the opera house and theaters. Eren came to stand beside him, resting his elbows on the railing.

“I don’t hate you, Eren,” Levi said, and Levi heard him take a sharp, surprised breath, heard the sound of the air hiss against his teeth.

“Do you know what would have happened if Hanji and I hadn’t gotten to you in time?” he asked.

Eren didn’t answer at first, fingering the worn carvings on the wooden railing. Long-dead lovers, confessing eternal devotion, street punks calling out their rivals, crude drawings. “They would have asked you to kill me,” he said at last, pressing his fingers into the deep grooves of the wood.

“Yes,” Levi agreed mildly. “If Erwin hadn’t been able to sort things out, they might have done that. I don’t want to kill you, Eren.”

“I’m sorry,” Eren said in a rush. “I wish I could take it back. I think about it all the time--”

“So do I,” Levi said, casually interrupting, and Eren fell silent and guilty.

“Come on,” Levi said at last, stirring beside him. “Let’s go back.”

 

 

 

 

At first it wasn’t exactly better.

He thought a lot about what Levi had said that night on the bridge. ‘So do I’--there was something in that, something much bigger behind those words. Something very like _I trusted you, and you let me down._

He'd started watching Levi again. Not just looking to see if he’d pleased him, but just _looking._ He’d liked, before, to watch Levi when he was sitting or reading or drinking tea, or quarreling with Hanji or folding laundry or dusting or--well, anything really. No matter how accustomed he was to Levi, there was always that little thrill of awe--Levi was a work of art, almost too beautiful to be real.

It was bittersweet now. To realize how childish he’d been, to think that Levi was a monolith instead of a man. He hadn’t thought--

Pain and grief--they never seemed to affect Levi the same way they did everyone else. Eren had naively believed that was because they didn’t. He had admired Levi’s strength and stoicism. He had wanted to be like him. 

He hadn’t realized. And it made him feel so childish. He had thought that Levi had been angry at him, and he could bear the anger. But knowing that he had _hurt_ Levi…

_So do I._

That Levi had relived that awful night too--what he must have gone through, knowing that if he didn’t arrive in time it would mean the death of one of his soldiers, at his own hands. He knew that Levi cared about people. He knew that Levi valued life, above everything, and that he never treated any death lightly.

On the bridge, he had only been allowed the briefest glimpse into Levi’s heart. But it had been enough. He had realized how wrong he’d been about everything.

How did he make up for that? Not by cleaning, obviously. Not by apologizing. Probably, he reflected morosely, he just had to stay out of trouble and wait it out.

But did that mean that little human part of Levi was out of his reach forever? The one that had teased him back? He’d jealously noted that Levi still acted the same towards Hanji and Erwin--that familiar affection that was to the casual observer a callous disregard.

If anything Levi had been even _more_ polite than usual to him this week, and it had made him despair enough that he’d actually had one or two insane thoughts of escaping and running loose in the city. If Levi beat him to death even _that_ might be better than this frozen politeness, that he couldn’t do anything except parrot back because he was guilty, guilty, guilty…

Later that week Erwin ate dinner with them, and told them that Levi was going to have Wednesday evenings off from then on. Eren slept for ten minute stretches all that night, but Levi didn’t come back until the next morning.

He was wearing different clothes. 

Eren had too much self-respect to try to dig around and find out if Hanji had had the night off too, but it was a near thing.

On Thursday night Levi asked him if he wanted to go to the opera.

“You...what,” Eren said stupidly. He had been mending a harness, and he looked up in confusion from the leather straps in his lap.

They were alone in the apartment.

“You seemed to like the symphony,” Levi replied mildly.

“I--yes, yes, yes,” Eren said, standing up and letting his gear fall everywhere. Levi winced. “I, um, sorry, are we leaving right now?”

“Why don’t you get cleaned up first,” Levi said, with strained patience. 

“Yes, right, sorry,” Eren muttered, his heart pounding out of his chest as he gathered his things up from the floor and practically ran back to his room.

He was in and out in under ten minutes, trying to be too quick for Levi to change his mind. He’d never been to an opera--they hadn’t had one, in Shinganshina, and he wasn’t really sure what it was, beyond musical. 

The Opera House was again beautiful--Eren noticed there were even more ladies in elegant gowns tonight than there had been before. The opera was where you went to be seen and admired, he guessed, as he followed Levi to the Royal Box, gawping at the decolletage on display.

He settled into his seat, anticipating another evening of heady pleasure. 

After forty-five minutes he dared to whisper to Levi, “Um. How long does it last?”

“Three and a half hours,” Levi said, not looking at him.

“Oh,” Eren said, crushed.

“There’s an intermission in the middle,” Levi said, showing a little pity.

Eren nodded, swallowing grimly.

When the break finally happened he clapped as loud as anyone, though inside he was praying for anything--even Titans--to interrupt the dreadful performance. Objectively he knew it wasn’t bad--he was even able to identify it as music, of a sort--though what the people were singing, who they were, why they were warbling and braying as they pursued each other around the stage was all beyond him.

“I’m going to go see about some tea,” Levi told him, and Eren nodded glumly. 

He watched as the other people in the theater began moving about, visiting and chatting. His earlier notion seemed to be confirmed--these people seemed far more interested in each other than they did in the performance. Not that he could blame them. 

He looked despondently at the stage, wondering when Levi would come back, and he noticed some other performers had come out in front of the lowered curtain. Levi had said they used the intermission to change out the sets, and give the singers time to change their costumes. But he hadn’t mentioned anything about another performance. 

Eren watched the players with a mix of curiosity and dread, wondering if there was going to be another installment while they waited for the main piece to continue.

 

 

 

 

When Levi finally returned to their box, an attendant pushing a tea tray along behind him, he heard Eren’s laughter before he saw him. He slipped into the box and nodded at the man to begin pouring the tea; he offered Eren the first cup politely.

Eren was so raptly watching the action on stage he barely noticed, absently nodding his thanks.

“Levi,” Eren said suddenly, his mouth upturned in a smile-- _When had he dropped the honorific?_ “Is that man supposed to be Erwin? And is that _Historia?"_

Levi looked over at the stage; an actress in an oversized blonde wig was being led into unknown waters by her devious ‘uncle’--it was an outsize parody, not very sophisticated but certainly political. 

“Possibly,” he said, and Eren gave him a lopsided, unselfconscious grin, so infectious that he smiled back involuntarily.

“Oh my god,” Eren whispered a moment later, covering his mouth as another actress walked on stage, “it’s one of Mikasa’s prostitutes.”

Not literally of course--just another actress, playing the role of the fallen woman. In the play, the uncle wanted his niece to use her inheritance to set up a factory for the women to ‘work’--only their ‘work’ was mostly servicing him when the niece’s back was turned.

“Isn’t this treason?” he whispered to Levi when he could stop laughing.

“Historia has loosened the stranglehold the crown once had on the media considerably,” Levi replied.

“Huh?”

“She’s tolerating all sorts of things for political reasons. Not stifling creative expression. A little like how we all used to tolerate your impersonations, I suppose.”

“I, uh, don’t know what you mean…” Eren said, looking away and smiling.

He was so distracted by the performance--by what it _meant!_ \--that he didn’t even notice until much later how familiar--almost teasing--Levi had been with him, and how he’d fallen right back into it.

When the whole thing was finally over he peppered Levi with questions as they walked back.

“Did you know they were going to do that?”

“The satire? Sure.”

“But I never heard anything about it! Is it the same every time?”

“No, of course not. They change it every week. That’s why the writing’s so bad.”

Eren laughed. “I thought it was pretty good.”

“They recycle all the same jokes. Hanji and I saw one that was almost the same a while back.”

Eren didn’t say anything else. He kept his smile firmly in place and shoved his hands into his pockets, telling himself there was no reason to feel like he’d just been kicked in the guts.

That night in his room as he undressed he told himself a number of lies, beginning with, _They’re not doing anything,_ and moving on to, _And even if they were it’s nothing to you,_ and ending with, _There’s no reason for you to care._

 

 

 

 

Every Wednesday night Levi disappeared, and though Eren purposely avoided any knowledge of it, it became obvious that at least some of the time Hanji had those evenings off as well.

The rest of the squad was busy making the most of their new freedom. Almost every night they disappeared--dates, coffee houses, games, dances. Eren would hear about it all the next day at breakfast. He was still confined to quarters, and though he could (and sometimes did) accompany them to the library or the gymnasium, more often than not he stayed behind, most often when he knew Levi was around. They could talk about things again--the symphony. The opera. And since Eren had liked the satire so much, Levi had started taking him to see other things.

Odd things sometimes. Strange things. Weird experimental plays where the actors wore paper mache heads and talked in gibberish, and afterward he and Levi would eat at shabby cafes (the only ones open late) and try to puzzle them out. 

“Were they supposed to be Titans?”

“I don’t know. That one looked a little like Pixis.”

“Were they the high command as Titans?”

“Before,” Levi told him one night, over a midnight dinner of potatoes and onions and sausage, “the only plays were the official, government-sanctioned ones. A lot of stupid bullshit about the glory of the King, saving us from Titans. If something unusual or political did pop up, the MP would stamp it out.

“But now that Historia’s made it clear she’ll tolerate political dissent they’re all going wild.”

It was true. You couldn’t swing a cat without hitting some new makeshift theater or cabaret that had popped up, and Levi seemed willing to go to all of them. Eren was never sure how much Levi enjoyed them; some of the things they saw were wonderful, but most were just odd or mediocre. 

But at least once a week he’d ask Eren if he wanted to go to something; and every time Eren said yes.

“Why do you--” Eren suddenly said, “Why do you want to go to so many?”

Levi blinked at him. “You want to stop?”

“No! I like going. It’s interesting,” he said, and he was telling the truth. He felt as though he was learning more from the plays and performances about what was going on in the world, about what people really thought, than he ever had from reading newspapers or listening to the adults in his life. Some of the ideas that he heard were untrue, some were just plain crazy, but many more had stopped him and made him think, made him question his own long-held beliefs.

“Why is it interesting?” Levi asked.

“Well--I feel like I’m hearing more about what’s really happening. What people really think. I never would have guessed how critical people are of the new government.”

“They have the freedom to be critical now,” Levi said. “They never could be before. Historia’s wildly popular--even when they’re criticizing her, there’s something possessive about the way they do it, have you noticed?”

“Yes,” Eren said, and then, “Well, except the anarchists.”

Levi laughed then, short but genuine, and Eren felt a warm glow of happiness spread through him; he hadn’t heard Levi laugh in _months_.

“Yes,” Levi agreed, taking a sip of his tea, “the anarchists.”

“They’re not really…”

“Hmm?”

“Well, they’re not dangerous are they? They’re always talking about overthrowing the government, but they seem so…”

“Inept? Amateurish?”

“Yes.”

“They’re probably harmless,” Levi said. “For what it’s worth, Erwin keeps infiltrating them and becoming despondent at how little a threat they represent. He’s getting bored.”

Eren grinned at him. 

No one knew that he and Levi were doing this (they were all too busy to notice, and Eren hadn’t gone out of his way to tell anyone), which pleased him--not to have a secret, but just to have something that was _his_. Levi wasn’t, and never would be, but these moments belonged to him. Whatever Levi’s reasons for bringing him--whether it was genuine liking, or just that Eren was willing to do this and no one else was--Levi _was_ doing it, and showed no signs of stopping.

And he liked going to see the plays and concerts for their own sake.

It wasn’t the same as it had been before, but in a strange way…

When they went out together he felt as though Levi was treating him more like an equal. More like an adult. He missed the intimacy that they’d once had. But it had been replaced by something else, a new collegiality. Levi wasn’t treating him like a child.

And so when he saw Levi with someone else and he felt the familiar twinges of jealousy he reminded himself of that. It wasn’t always easy, but he was trying.

Most of the time he was reasonably happy. 

One night after dinner he went back to his room with some political pamphlets Armin had brought home. He’d gotten interested in current events, and if he could muddle through the texts he found them useful in understanding the plays. He had also enjoyed surprising the rest of the squad occasionally at breakfast, when he’d express an intelligent idea or opinion about something.

He’d stopped Armin dead in his tracks two or three times, and gotten blank stares from the others while Levi had looked on in keen amusement.

(What he didn’t know, and wouldn’t discover for a long time, was that Levi had no interest in the more obscure plays; at this point he would see practically anything purely to see Eren’s reaction, which he would then later share with Hanji.

“I like my little studious amateur theater critic,” he told her. “He takes everything so seriously.”

“I can’t believe he liked it,” Hanji said, shaking her head. 

“He told me how it related to the struggle of man’s acceptance of his own death,” Levi informed her, about as sly and arch as Hanji had ever seen him.

“You said it was a puppet show!”

“It was a performance of actors _and_ puppets,” he told her reproachfully.

She snorted. “And how long are you going to keep this up for?”

“As long as it keeps him out of trouble. Then we’ll find something else.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Hanji asked innocently. “Keeping him out of trouble?”

Levi gave her a level look and didn’t respond.) 

There was a knock at Eren’s door, and he answered absently without looking up from his reading, assuming it was Mikasa or Armin.

But it was Jean who walked in and closed the door behind him.

“Oh,” Eren said, non-plused. “Hi.” It was only slightly more civil than ‘What do you want?’

Jean looked uncomfortable, and Eren was a little annoyed when he sat on the bed without being asked.

“Where were you going with the Captain the other night,” he blurted out suddenly.

Eren felt his heart skip a beat; he carefully marked his place in the pamphlet and put it aside.

“Just out,” he said carefully. “We’ve been going to concerts.”

Jean nodded, as if he hadn’t really listened to the answer. “Well. That’s good then. That you’re getting along.”

“Mm,” Eren said non-committally, wondering what Jean wanted.

“So,” Jean said abruptly, and Eren noticed he was sweating, “You know I’ve been dating Mikasa?”

“Uh,” Eren said; he’d been expecting some sort of blackmail, but not this. “I thought she was dating that soldier in the palace guard.”

Jean looked annoyed. “She was! All right, she _is,”_ he muttered. “But she says it’s not serious and she said she’d go on a date with me.”

“Okay…”

“Well she said she’d have dinner with me! And, she sort of...I mean. Okay, look, Eren, this is my shot to impress her. You have to help me.”

“Help you? How?”

“She likes you better than anyone!”

“Not lately,” Eren muttered.

“Yes, lately too!” Jean snapped back, and for the next half hour Eren was forced to listen to all Jean’s anxieties and insecurities, as he sweated and babbled on about Mikasa.

“So it’s not really a date,” Eren said finally, when Jean had finished.

Jean glared at him, but finally he said defensively, “Well, it could be!”

“She likes it when people do good things,” Eren said. “She and Historia started getting along when Historia helped her set up those workshops. Have you done anything good lately?”

“No,” Jean said.

“Well, think of something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Eren said, picking up his pamphlets.

Jean stared at him for a moment. Then he said, “Thanks.”

“Uh,” Eren said, surprised. “Good luck.”

Jean nodded and got up and left.


	6. Chapter 6

“Your Grace,” the guard said, “Eren Jaeger requests the honor of an audience.”

“Eren,” Historia said in surprise. “Send him in, please.”

The guard nodded, stepping aside, as a moment later Eren came in looking a little awkward.

“Sorry about all this,” Historia said, with an apologetic shrug at the grandeur of their surroundings.

Eren laughed nervously. “It’s all right.”

“I haven’t seen you in so long. I’m so busy all the time, I wish I could join you all for dinner,” Historia sighed, regretfully, as she stood up to squeeze Eren’s shoulder. “How are you, Eren? I’m glad you came.”

“I’m well, thank you,” Eren said. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Of course,” she said. There was a sitting area in the anteroom of her chamber, and she nodded to a chair, taking the one across from it.

Eren sat down. “Historia, have you thought of going to the opera?”

She laughed. “Erwin mentioned something about you and Levi wearing out the upholstery in my box,” she teased. “Really, it’s not my style. But thank you for the invitation--”

“Historia,” Eren said, shaking his head. “That isn’t what I mean.”

She looked a little surprised at the seriousness of his tone. “All right,” she said, more seriously. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been going to the opera for months--and seeing other plays too, all over the city. During the break at the opera they perform a satire, usually it’s about whatever current events are happening in the city. You’re almost always in it, in one form or another.

“And the people love you. They never show you as being willfully bad or evil--the way they do the old king, and a lot of the nobles.”

“But?” Historia prompted.

“But they think you’re young--immature--inept.” He coughed apologetically. “Being misled by your advisors.”

She leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. It was hard to guess what she might be thinking, but she didn’t look angry. Eren was relieved; he had been wrestling with whether to come and see her for some time. He had worried that he might offend her.

“You still have a lot of goodwill,” he added quickly. “But if you make a mistake--and you will, at some point, anyone would--they might think you’re even more ineffective. Maybe even just a figurehead.

“It’s good that you do so much charitable work--the poor love you. But the middle class--the wealthy--they’re wary of you, after so many nobles were exiled. And the poor aren’t the ones that shape public opinion, I’m sorry to say.”

“Yes,” she said slowly, “I see what you mean.”

“It isn’t just the satires at the opera, either. There are so many plays and performances being put on, about all kinds of things--and they’re all political, one way or another. Everyone’s talking about you. But you’re absent--and it’s conspicuous.”

Eren had seen it for himself. The grand opera house was only used for the most prestigious events--the opera, the symphony and the like. But there were enough different performances that he and Levi could go once or twice a week sometimes and not see the same thing. The public was hungry for new entertainment, and it had never before been so rich and varied.

Despite what Historia had said they didn’t always sit in the Royal Box--Levi felt this was too conspicuous, and more often than not they had bought regular tickets. They didn’t wear their uniforms then--and as absurd as it was Eren always felt as though he was in disguise in his civilian clothes.

He enjoyed sitting with the rest of the audience. Seeing their reactions to things, unobserved, was another kind of performance. And he liked feeling anonymous.

It had given him ample time to notice that unless they were in it the Royal Box was always empty. Historia never came; neither did anyone else. The audience noticed. He frequently saw people looking up at it--that empty throne was visible from every seat. 

“If you want to be the people’s queen,” Eren said, “You need to go where your people go. You need to be seen among them, and right now they go to the theater. Not just the wealthy, either. _Everyone_ goes. When you never go--”

“It looks like I don’t care,” she said slowly. “Or worse, they don’t allow me to.”

“Yes,” he agreed, relieved that she understood. 

“You’re right, Eren,” she said. “Something I’ve realized is that if I don’t tell my own story someone else tells it for me.” She leaned forward, her eyes alight with sudden pleasure. “I’ll go. You and Levi can be my honor guard, how about that?”

He smiled. “The box is bigger than that.”

“Erwin, too?”

Eren laughed. “Only if you very firmly put him in his place where everyone can see you. Otherwise it will just give them something for the next week’s satire. They already think--uh...”

“That he’s the real power behind the throne?” she asked, amused.

Eren blushed, shrugging. “Sorry...but yes. It’s a popular theme at the moment.”

She nodded. “We’ll pick a day to start with. Thank you, Eren.” She looked him over thoughtfully. “You’ve changed,” she said, surprising him.

“How do you mean?” 

“When I first met you you hardly seemed to notice other people,” she said. “Now--well, this is the kind of plan I would have expected Armin to come up with, not you. No offense!”

“I’ll take it as a compliment. Armin’s the smartest person I know. He just doesn’t go to the theater,” Eren said, with a lopsided smile.

Historia laughed. “No, I heard he’s too busy haunting the gambling halls.”

Eren nodded. “The others have their hands full keeping him out of trouble. Sometimes I’m glad I’m still grounded and he’s not my responsibility.”

When Historia’s secretary arrived a half hour later to remind her of her next appointment they were still gossiping. Historia sighed and stood up. When they were alone again she surprised Eren by hugging him, but he returned her embrace easily.

 _Such a shame…_ she thought, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. He’d gotten taller these last few months, and stronger too. Oh well.

“Thank you again, Eren,” she said as they parted.

He nodded. “I’m glad you understood. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to explain it properly…We all miss you too, Historia. You should try to come around when you can.”

She smiled at him. “I’d like that. I’ll see you later, Eren.”

 

 

 

 

It took a few weeks to arrange, but Historia’s visit to the opera was dutifully reported and tickets for the evening were sold out instantly, only to appear later on the black market for triple and quadruple the price. Queen Historia was wildly popular, and speculation about everything from what she would wear to who would attend her was rampant.

In the end she chose all of Squad Levi, though a few extra chairs needed to be squeezed into the box, and Levi opted to stand at the back rather than be confined in the tight space. From the moment they arrived until the curtain was raised there was an unusually festive atmosphere in the grand hall. There were members of the military everywhere, and for security reasons Historia waited in the private anteroom near the box before emerging before the start of the performance. When she walked into the box the room erupted wildly; Eren hadn’t seen anything like it since her coronation, and he grinned, clapping as loud as anyone.

He was used to the opera by now, but from the first warbling notes from the singers he saw his teammates wince, and he bit his cheek to keep from smiling. Jean seemed especially uncomfortable. Eren was looking forward to the intermission, wondering what the company would have come up with now that their Queen was in attendance.

Unfortunately, he was in for disappointment. The short play was so fawning and obsequious that it couldn’t properly be called satire at all--unless it was profound meta-humor and the writers were making fun of themselves. Somehow Eren doubted that. After the first five minutes he glanced back to see how Levi was taking it--only to see that the Captain had vanished.

Disappointed, he was about to turn back to the stage when Historia caught his eye, and he dutifully went over to her when she beckoned. 

“He said he was going down to the officers’ lounge,” she murmured. “Go on, if you like. There’s plenty of people here to protect me, I don’t need you all,” she said, with a quick wink meant only for him.

He grinned back at her and whispered, “You don’t need any of us,” and she smiled serenely at the compliment.

He walked out of the box, nodding to the guards outside and taking the back stairway. He’d never been in the officers’ lounge though he knew where it was--in the basement of the building, a small room reserved for the exclusive use of the military. 

Levi was sitting alone at a table in the back. Everyone else there was Garrison or MP, and Eren thought he recognized one or two of them but he wasn’t sure. He returned their polite nods anyway. Of course, they _would_ know who he was.

He sat down across from the Captain. Levi nodded at the bartender and a moment later the man brought over a drink and set it down in front of him.

“Uh,” Eren said in confusion. It smelled distinctly alcoholic; he hadn’t drunk since the disastrous night of his birthday.

“Go on,” Levi said. “I don't think one brandy is going to make you go on a rampage and destroy the city.” He paused, and then gave Eren a hard look. “Is it?”

“No!” Eren said quickly. He picked up the glass and took a tiny sip. It wasn’t bad. He set it down again. “But why are you giving it to me? Hanji said…”

“Do you know why Jean and Mikasa broke up?” Levi asked abruptly.

Eren blinked. He didn’t know what was stranger--Levi giving him alcohol, or Levi taking an interest in the personal lives of the rest of the squad.

“Were they even officially dating?” he asked--it was the first thing he could think of to say.

“Who knows,” Levi said, with an indifferent shrug. “But you didn’t notice the way she’s been treating him all night?” 

Eren thought back--he’d been so busy, looking forward to the evening, worrying about whether he’d been foolish to suggest it to Historia after all, anticipating the audience’s reaction--that he’d barely paid any attention to the rest of his team. But now that he thought of it Mikasa _had_ seemed a little cool that evening--at least outwardly. Earlier in the day she’d been rather kinder than usual to him, but he’d been too busy to pay much attention to her.

“Now that you mention it,” he said slowly, “she did seem to make a fuss at the beginning about sitting as far away from him as possible. What happened?” he asked curiously, guessing Levi must have some special reason for caring enough to tell him this.

Levi opened his mouth to speak, but before he could there was a shout at the door, and the room fell silent as everyone turned to look at the new arrival.

“Death to tyrants!” a masked figure cried, lobbing a large ball-shaped object into the room.

There were screams, a roar, noise, confusion. Levi had grabbed Eren and pulled him down to the ground, knocking the table down before them as a shield, as glass exploded and shattered everywhere. Eren landed half on top of him, quickly pressing himself down to cover Levi’s body with his own, praying that he could shield him from the explosion.

The moment before flames consumed the room they looked at each other, Levi’s clear gray eyes meeting Eren’s green ones.

All artifice vanished. The veil between them was drawn aside. 

Eren thought wildly of that long-ago moment on the bridge, how he’d glimpsed Levi then. And now: _Well, I’m here. Now what?_

It passed in less than a second.

Eren leaned forward; if it was his last moment on earth, if it was Levi’s, then he was laying claim to it. He kissed Levi full on the mouth, not at all hesitant. He thought-- _his lips are so much softer than I imagined._

Then, after what seemed like no time at all, Levi pushed him off and got to his feet. Eren scrambled up beside him.

Looking around it was clear everyone had survived the blast, and after the first initial explosion…

It hadn’t done much damage at all. There _were_ a few things on fire, and a lot of broken glass; the bartender was casually beating out some flames with a rag, an annoyed look on his face.

“Fucking anarchists,” he said.

Levi stared at him. “Forgive me,” he said. “Does this happen often?”

The bartender snorted. “Once a month, at least.” At the looks everyone was giving him, he felt compelled to add, “Oh, not _here!_ Obviously. But all over the city--you must have heard about it. Being military and all.”

“I don’t remember Erwin mentioning it at any of the staff meetings,” Levi said under his breath. “Come on, let’s go make sure everyone’s all right.”

The man who had thrown the bomb had left only moments before, and the other soldiers in the room followed Levi and Eren into the hall. There were two staircases leading up, and they split apart to tackle both of them. From above they could hear screams and confusion, and they raced upwards--

Only to find everyone in the theater well and unharmed. Erwin had already organized teams to find and capture the assailants; the one that had gone for the Queen’s box had been apprehended before he even had a chance to attack.

The rest of the evening passed in a confused but high-spirited chase as they searched every inch of the theater, until Erwin was satisfied that they had captured all the men responsible.

There were just four of them. Anarchists, just as the bartender had predicted. They had been planning a coordinated attack--the front and back doors of the theater, the officers’ lounge, and the Queen’s box. One bomb had failed to detonate, and the man with the bomb meant for the back door had thrown it through the backstage door by mistake. It had landed in a rack of costumes and props, but no one had been injured and the performers had been quick to rush together to put out the flames.

They had the four men tied up and surrounded by soldiers. All the civilians had been cleared from the theater, and Historia was thick in discussion with Erwin and her other advisors.

Eren and Levi had been sent up to search the attic with some of the other soldiers; somehow they had ended up alone on the way back down. As the evening had worn on and the first heady rush of adrenalin had worn off Eren had grown more and more anxious. Not because of the bombs or the attacks but because _he had kissed Levi!_ And oh god, what was Levi going to do to him!

“Of course it would be anarchists,” Levi said in disgust, pausing on the stairs to look down at the men kneeling on the mezzanine far underneath them. 

Eren stared hard at Levi as he peered at the scene below.

“Captain,” he said suddenly in a strangled voice. “I’m sorry, about earlier--”

Levi turned to him. He was standing a step or two above Eren; their eyes were almost level. “Are you?” he asked. His voice was as keen as a blade, demanding absolute honesty.

“...no,” Eren admitted, eyes never leaving Levi’s face.

Levi narrowed his eyes--in amusement, Eren thought--and then he leaned forward and kissed him. Again, Eren had that same thought--his lips were much softer than he'd expected. Nothing else was how he'd imagined either--Levi was a little rough, challenging, demanding that Eren keep up. It wasn't difficult.

Sometime later Levi pulled back. 

Eren put a hand out on the railing, to keep from falling backward down the stairs, dazed. Where were they? The opera house, wasn’t it? And Levi had been kissing him. For some reason.

“Let’s go out the back,” Levi suggested.

Eren looked at him in surprise, beginning to get ahold of himself. “Should we leave--just like that--without telling anyone, I mean--”

“Erwin has everything under control. He’s just angry because he underestimated the anarchists.”

“But what about--won’t they be wondering where we--”

Levi leaned against the balustrade and gave a high pitched whistle; below them Hanji popped her head out and looked up; Levi flashed her a thumb’s up sign, which she returned, and Levi leaned back in. “All set,” he said.

Eren followed along behind him, giddy and nervous.

The street outside was crowded and noisy. The theater had been evacuated while the soldiers searched, but most people had stayed nearby instead of going home once it was obvious they weren’t in any danger. The festive, excited atmosphere had spilled over into the street and Eren looked around at all the people gossiping as they wended their way through the crowd. It was very democratic. He saw housewives talking to rich merchants, and common laborers speculating with fine ladies in furs. A few people recognized their uniforms and asked them what was happening; Levi told them it was all over, just a few dumb kids pulling a prank, and that they’d be better off just going home. No one listened; there was a rumor that the Queen was going to address them; no one was going to risk going home and missing _that._

When they were finally outside of the crowd Eren laughed suddenly.

Levi looked at him.

“I was just thinking,” Eren said, “how much more entertaining this evening was for everyone, than if the opera had just continued as usual.”

He wasn’t happy; he was operating on some plane of existence beyond happiness, something he had no words for. He had no idea what was going to happen next. If Levi suddenly sprouted wings and flew away he wouldn’t even be surprised; he’d just sprout his own wings and follow.

As they began to get closer to the palace, though, he slowed down his pace without realizing. Levi noticed right away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing--just. I wish we were going someplace else.”

“Oh. We are.”

Eren blinked at him. Levi started walking again, and Eren hurried to keep up, but Levi didn’t explain and Eren didn’t ask what he'd meant. Instead of going towards the palace Levi walked away from it, towards a tall building. Confused, Eren followed.

Levi unlocked the front door with a key; the hall inside smelled like fresh flowers and beeswax. Levi began walking up the stairs--they were carpeted, Eren noticed, an ornate flower pattern--and at the third floor Levi stopped and unlocked another door. Eren followed him in.

As soon as they were inside he understood.

The furnishings in the apartment were spare but well-chosen; these rooms were Levi’s. This was where he had been going, to get away from the rest of them. You could even see the palace through the window. This place was private. And Levi had brought him here. He swallowed.

“Some good came when you complained to Erwin about me,” Levi explained. Eren didn’t bother correcting him. “He talked to Historia, and she mentioned the crown owned these apartments, they’re ancillary quarters she can give to whoever she likes.”

“You were pretty close to murdering us all,” Eren deadpanned. “I don’t think I was the only one who noticed.”

Levi laughed; Eren thought he even looked a little sly.

“I used to dream about living in a place like this when I was young,” Levi said, as he took off his jacket and put it away, and then began loosening his cravat. “No,” he corrected himself, thoughtfully, looking at the palace, “this is beyond what I dreamed of. And now…”

“And now?”

“It isn’t worth anything,” Levi said, with a shrug. “It isn’t important.”

Eren forced himself to breathe slowly, told himself: _Be brave._

He walked forward and forced himself to put his arms around Levi, as Levi stood there watching him inscrutably. As soon as he had leaned forward, to kiss Levi--

Everything was easy again; he wasn’t afraid or embarrassed. It was just _Levi,_ and he knew Levi better than anyone. And tonight he was going to learn more, learn how Levi liked to be touched, and where, and how hard, and how fast…

They undressed each other; waves of nerves passed over him, as each piece of clothing was removed. He’d seen Levi naked plenty of times by now, but of course this was different--and it wasn’t an every day occurrence anyway. He kissed Levi’s neck and shoulders, his chest, and then he dropped to his knees. He felt Levi shudder; it might as well have been an earthquake.

He kissed along Levi’s stomach first, licked around his belly button, across his pelvis, nosed through the dark hair there until he had Levi’s cock in his mouth, licking and sucking and nibbling. He had Levi against the wall. Levi ran his hands through Eren’s hair, pulled a little as Eren sucked, soft, then harder, then biting--not too hard, but harder than he would have guessed, as Levi got louder and louder above him. That dark, secret knowledge was almost enough to get him off--right there. _This is what he likes,_ Eren thought. Levi had tried to push him away--he tried again now, more forcefully, and Eren held him back.

He scraped along Levi’s cock with his teeth, licked again, as he worked the base with his hand. He felt the moment Levi yielded, shivering, and he redoubled his efforts until Levi was coming in his mouth, hot fluid splashing. Not awful (he’d overheard enough conversations to know it was supposed to be), briny, almost sweet. 

Levi slid down to join him on the ground. “God damn you,” he said, sounding impressed. “Were you _planning_ that? So much for innocent virgins.”

Eren grinned at him. “I--uh. I maybe have given it some thought…” he said, and Levi snorted.

“Okay,” he said, challengingly, “now what?”

Eren smiled and took him by the hand and led him to the bed.

 

 

 

 

Hours later: “Levi, what were you going to tell me earlier?”

“Hmm?”

“About Jean and Mikasa?”

“Oh, that. First you have to promise not to hit him.”

Bewildered, he rolled to get a better view of Levi’s face. They’d been lying naked, his back to Levi, Levi’s arms around his waist. Was he going to be called upon to defend Mikasa’s honor? But Mikasa could defend it much better than he could--he said, “I promise.”

Levi told him. 

Eren shot straight up out of the bed. “That lying bastard!”

Levi was unperturbed.

“What are you going to do to him?” Eren demanded, outraged.

“Nothing,” Levi said.

For a moment Eren was in a blind rage; then his training kicked in. He took a deep breath, and in a calm voice he asked, “What do you mean?”

Levi sat up, and even in his anger and confusion Eren couldn’t help but admire the way the muscles moved on his bare arms and chest. Levi smiled as he said, “You’re going to punish him.”

“Huh?” 

“As a matter of fact, you’re going to do _all_ the punishing from now on. You’re going to be in charge of your friends. Curfew. Keeping them out of trouble. That’s all your responsibility now.”

“I don’t--” Eren started to say, and then he stopped. In a shocked voice he said, “You’re making me your second-in-command?”

It was so wildly unexpected he could only stare at Levi, as if he’d been presented with a dead toad.

“Mm. You’re going to be eighteen soon. Officially that’s when we’ll make the announcement, but for practical purposes you begin now. God help you.”

“But--” Eren started to protest--there were better choices than him, he wasn’t the most responsible--and then he realized. He _was_ the most responsible. God help them _all._

He sank to the bed, mute and stunned. Levi patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. “I’ll be here to advise you, of course.”

Eren realized that Levi was enjoying this--a lot.

“Isn’t this breaking a lot of rules?” he asked desperately.

“Yes. Totally unethical,” Levi agreed. “But I didn’t know you were going to kiss me when Erwin agreed to it this morning. You can tell him, if you want, but I think you’ll only annoy him so much that he’ll pretend to misunderstand you.”

“I--no” Eren said, running his hands through his hair in agitation. “Are you sure you want me to be in charge?” he asked.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t gotten into trouble since we came here. Actually, going back sometime before that as well. You’re the only choice.”

“But--”

“And apart from that, I believe you’ll do a better job than I will at keeping them all in line.”

Eren looked at him and saw that Levi was serious. He believed in him, as preposterous as that seemed. “Well, I’ll try,” he said weakly, “If that’s what you want.”

“I know you’ll do your best,” Levi said simply, as if that was enough.

Eren stared hard at the floor. He’d wanted Levi’s trust and affection back for so long--and here it was, wrapped up neatly with a bow and handed back to him. More than he’d ever hoped for.

Levi stretched his arms out and leaned back. “So, what are you going to do to him?”

“Huh?”

“Jean.”

“Oh.” Eren said. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

“You don’t sound angry anymore.”

“Well,” Eren said slowly; it was true. His initial rage had died down upon the shock of hearing about his--promotion. He gulped. “It isn’t the same,” he realized. “Punishing someone yourself, and demanding that they be punished…”

“That’s true.”

Eren sighed. “And I’m going to have to be responsible for Armin, too? Damn it. I’m starting to think that you’re punishing me…”

Levi smiled again. “We’re recognizing your competency,” he said gently. “You aren’t the new recruits anymore. If you’re all lucky enough to survive, some of you are going to become squad leaders yourselves.”

“That’s frightening,” Eren said, making a face.

Levi leaned forward and took one of Eren’s hands in his. This thing between them was still so new that Eren’s heart skipped a beat; just that touch of warm skin against his was enough to electrify his body. He loved the strength of Levi, the solidness of him. 

_I want…_ he thought, and then he realized with a shock, _I can,_ and he leaned into Levi, putting his arms around him, tracing the shape of his spine and his ribs and his muscles and everything he could reach.

“For what it’s worth, Eren, I’m sorry for misjudging you.”

“You were afraid,” Eren said, quietly. He’d known, since that long-ago night on the bridge, but this was a different kind of knowledge. Knowing Levi--knowing so much about him, Eren _knew_ that this was the furthest thing from casual. And that was stunning too--he could understand it intellectually, but in his heart he couldn’t believe it. _Me?_

But he could see it all as easily as if it had been mapped and diagrammed for him; the night of Eren’s birthday Levi had had some kind of epiphany. Precisely what Eren didn’t know--but it didn’t matter. What it amounted to was that he cared about Eren more than he’d realized. Everything that had happened afterward made sense now, and he felt the world tip that much further when he realized how carefully Levi had been trying to navigate things, for both their sakes.

These past few months he’d almost resented Levi’s kindness towards him--he’d wanted back what’d they’d had before. But he saw now how Levi had been encouraging him--in a thousand different ways--to form his own opinions, to make his own decisions. Before visiting Historia he’d asked Levi what he should do--if he should maybe talk to Erwin first, or if he should forget the whole thing.

“Do it, if you’re going to,” Levi had told him. “But don’t go through Erwin. You know Historia, and you can explain it to her better than he can.”

“Would you have--” he suddenly said, pulling back, “Still done this, if Jean hadn’t told you the truth?” Meaning his promotion.

“I wanted to,” Levi said. “It would have been more difficult, but I think Erwin would have agreed eventually.”

“You never told me.”

“No,” Levi said, amused. “Because you earned it on your own merit. You deserve it for the work you’ve done, not because it was some goal I set you to please me.”

“I was doing everything to please you, though,” Eren laughed, and Levi rolled his eyes.

 _“That_ hasn’t been true for the last few months.”

Eren smiled and didn’t argue--he knew Levi was right. He had stopped moping around his room ages ago, but it had been because _he’d_ wanted to. There’d even been times Levi had had to track him down to ask if he’d wanted to do something because he was out training with Hanji’s Squad, or attending political meetings with Erwin, or helping Mikasa with renovations at the workshops. And there’d been plays he’d found out about and suggested to Levi (he’d caught on to Levi’s habit of finding strange things to inflict upon Eren, and he’d turned the tables, innocently suggesting things that he’d known Levi would hate for several weeks until one day Levi had looked at him with narrow-eyed suspicion, and instead of saying yes had said, “Truce?”)

Levi hadn’t known how Eren would fit into his life--but he’d still tried to make space for him. Not for a student, or a disciple, or a servant--but for a friend. A partner. Eren was willing to bet Levi hadn’t known they would end up here--hell, it was even possible Levi hadn’t even _wanted_ to kiss him until Eren had done it first. 

But he’d wanted Eren by his side--and known he had to find his own way there.

“I won’t let you down,” Eren promised, and he saw Levi smile.

“I know.”

Such charming, gentle confidence; Eren would have cheerfully assigned his friends years of latrine duty and scrubbing floors to be worthy of that trust. They had no idea what they were in for.

 

 

 

 

“I hate you,” Jean moaned, as Eren walked by.

Eren stopped to grin at him.

“This is the fifth time I’ve seen this,” Jean said. “You do realize that executing me would have been more humane?”

“Since you were so instrumental in instilling my love of the opera,” Eren said cheerfully, “I wanted to make sure you had every opportunity to enjoy it as much as I have.”

He’d assigned Jean to the new security detail in the opera house. Every night there was a performance Jean was there, standing guard against erstwhile bombers and dissidents--even if it meant seeing the same thing five nights in a row.

“How’s your partner?” Eren asked. The bulk of the new security force was MP; Jean was on loan until they left for the Survey Corp Camp with the new enlisted recruits.

“Terrible,” Jean grimaced. “She _loves_ the opera.”

“At least Mikasa started speaking to you again,” Eren said sympathetically.

“Yeah, ‘pass the salt.’”

“And she said you could help with the repairs on the new building this weekend.”

“Exactly how I want to spend my day off,” Jean said glumly. “Are _you_ coming, _sir?”_

“Can’t,” Eren said with a straight face. “Meetings.”

“Right,” Jean said. “Of course. Private meetings with the Captain, right?”

“See you later, Jean! Enjoy the second half.”

“You’re skipping out?”

“I’d love to stay, but--”

“Meetings?” Jean suggested acidly, and Eren gave him a beatific smile.

“See you at curfew!”

“Right,” Jean muttered as Eren walked off, to where Levi was no doubt waiting. “Curfew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Postscript:
> 
> Erwin spent the day after the attack on the opera house mopping up the mess the anarchists had left him, but in the evening he called Levi into his office. 
> 
> He looked exhausted; Levi doubted that he'd slept at all, but he was sympathetic only to a point. That glint was back in his eye; Levi had known Erwin for a long time, and he knew that he was enjoying this catastrophe more than he'd enjoyed anything since they'd retaken Shinganshina.
> 
> Erwin brought him up to speed on the meetings and plans he'd spent the day dealing with; they agreed to a strategy, and Levi got up to go.
> 
> "Levi," Erwin said suddenly, his expression changing, "Are you messing around with Eren?"
> 
> Levi considered this. "Why do you ask?"
> 
> "I saw him today," Erwin said pointedly, glaring at Levi.
> 
> "Mm. Yes."
> 
> "Yes, you are?"
> 
> "Yes."
> 
> Erwin sighed in exasperation. "Do you _have_ to?"
> 
> Levi pretended to give this due consideration, then again he said, "Yes."
> 
> "Well tell him to be a little more discrete for god's sake," Erwin snapped, which Levi graciously chalked up to his tiredness. "And don't let me find out about it, I only just got his promotion sorted."
> 
> "Okay, I won't," Levi said agreeably. "Thanks, Erwin."
> 
> "Mm," Erwin said, already pulling a stack of papers towards him. Levi allowed himself a small, private smile as he left the room.

**Author's Note:**

> <3 feedback


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